


The Day I Lost My Head

by shadowsamurai



Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Explicit Language, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Mild Language, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV First Person, Psychotropic Drugs, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 28,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd's having trouble thinking....but he thinks he's in trouble. If only the damned cherubs would stop flying around, he could concentrate better!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this started off as a one shot and grew into this! It's random, and it was fun to write. Oh, and the first person POV chapters are Boyd's. Also takes place not long after S6, but well before S7.

This isn’t real. It can’t be. I know it isn’t real, but I can’t seem to find reality. Funny that, isn’t it? Want to know how I know it isn’t real? Because I’m laughing. I don’t laugh.

No, I’m not laughing. I’m giggling. And do you know what I’m giggling at?

Those cherubs flying around my head, pointing at me and pulling weird faces. Damn, but they’re funny looking things, aren’t they? Arses sticking out all over the place.

The coloured cherub - I know, you shouldn’t say that, but that’s what he is. He’s a different colour to me…I think. Good point, what colour am I? Well, my hand looks like a bloody rainbow at the moment, and my other hand is doing the Mexican wave.

Is it waving hello or goodbye, do you think?

What is that noise?

Oh, it’s me.

I’m giggling again.

The black cherub - I don’t think that’s any better, but seeing as there’s only me and these damn cherubs around, I don’t give a shit. I don’t think they’re going to grass on me.

Grass…why is that important to me?

What was I saying?

That was it. The black cherub just farted. I think I’m crying because I’m laughing so hard.

This is not normal.

Grass. That’s why it’s important to me. One of the girl cherubs (there’s two)…well, I think it’s a girl. She looks like a girl, though with none of the girly bits that girls should have.

I wish whoever’s laughing would shut the fuck up.

Oh, it’s me. Damn.

Grass. Yes, that’s what I was saying. One of the girl cherubs is smoking the biggest spliff I have ever seen. She looks a little weird, though, like the type to pull all the arms off toy dolls. The other girl cherub doesn’t look much better. She’s speaking a made up language, and I think she could break me in half with just a look.

*Grace.*

I know that name.

I don’t know the cherubs - besides, cherubs aren’t real - but I know Grace. She’s kind and funny and smells nice. But not when she’s pissed. And she’s usually pissed at me. Maybe I shouldn’t giggle so much. Maybe that’s why she’s mad.

Why can’t I remember? Why can’t I snap out of this? If you find reality, point me in the direction of it, will you? Or give me a map. A map to Grace. Or of Grace. That would work as well.

I’m giggling again. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.

A woman is walking towards me as I sit on this lovely bright blue hill, the cherubs flying badly around me. I’ve still got rainbow coloured hands that are waving Mexican-style all over the place, and I have the feeling that nothing is as it should be, except for this woman walking towards me.

She’s tall, I suppose, and slim. Well, for her age. I’d better not say that out loud - she looks like she’d kill me for it. She’s got lovely blonde hair that makes me want to run my hands through it, and the brightest blue eyes. But she looks sad. I want to ask what’s wrong, but I can’t seem to stop bloody giggling.

Grace. I know this is Grace. I try again to say the name but it doesn’t work.

She’s talking to me, Grace is, but I can’t tell what she’s saying. Then she’s crying and walking away, and something in the very back of my mind screams at me that she’s walked away before, and that I shouldn’t let her do it again.

Damn, if only I could stop laughing!

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Graces sits in the waiting room, her hands clasped together, resting on her lap. She’s trying to look composed, but it’s obvious she’s nervous. She has no idea what’s going on, and the rest of the team have had to go back to the office to write reports. Grace didn’t want to stay, or at least not alone. She needs company, reassurance that he’s going to be okay. Even if the doctors don’t know that’s true, Grace needs to hear the words. She can’t lose him, the team can’t lose him. He’s one of her oldest friends, her closest friends, despite being a bastard half the time.

“Mrs Boyd?”

Grace looks up to see a young doctor stood before her. Actually, he’s probably not that young, but at the moment she feels old, so anyone under sixty would be juvenile.

“Yes? I mean no, I’m not Mrs Boyd. I’m Grace Foley, Mr Boyd’s friend and colleague.” Grace feels strange calling him ‘Mr Boyd’, and ‘Peter’ isn’t in her vocabulary.

The doctor looks suitably apologetic. “Ah. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Do you have some news?”

“Let’s go into my office,” the doctor says after a beat, and Grace knows it’s serious. Only serious discussions are carried out in offices, behind closed doors, and Grace should know, she’s involved in lots of them. And arguments. As much as she hates to admit it, even to herself, if anything happened to Boyd, Grace would miss the arguments.

Grace just nods and follows the doctor. It isn’t a long walk, but it seems to go on forever. Time has no meaning for Grace, not while she has no idea what’s wrong with Boyd.

“Erm…how do I address you?” the doctor asks, a sheepish smile on his face. Obviously he doesn’t want to make any more mistakes.

Grace studies him briefly before answering, forcing her mind to focus on something else. He is young, not that many years out of medical school, so Grace can forgive him for his slight blunders.

“You can call me Grace,” she replies, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite work.

“Okay, Grace.” The doctor sits and leans his elbows on his desk, all business. “As you’re listed as Mr Boyd’s next of kin, I’m allowed to give details of his condition to you.”

“Really?” Grace sounds surprised, and the doctor isn’t sure which part of what he just said wasn’t clear. “Sorry, I didn’t realise I was Boyd’s…Mr Boyd’s next of kin.”

The doctor smiles in understanding. “I would ask that you share what I am about to tell you with those who absolutely have to know,” he says, which Grace translates to, ‘the prognosis isn’t good’.

“Please, Doctor, just tell me what’s wrong with him.”

The doctor nods. “Okay, Grace. Mr Boyd has ingested a large amount of a hallucinogenic drug.”

“What?” Grace says in shock. She knows it’s stupid, really, but it’s the only thing she can think of. “Sorry, I’m just surprised. I don’t know how that could have happened.”

“I’m sure your colleagues will find out,” the doctor replies, attempting to reassure her.

“So what’s the bad news?” She smiles at the doctor’s surprised expression. “I’ve been in enough situations similar to this to know that talking behind closed doors means either bad news or arguments.”

“Very well. The bad news is we don’t know what drug Mr Boyd’s been given, and we can’t flush it out of his system. If we can’t isolate it soon, it could very well end up poisoning him or sending him insane, which I realise isn’t the correct term, but it’s a good enough one to use.”

“Oh my God.” Grace’s hand goes to her mouth. This can’t be happening. “I want to see him.”

The doctor shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’ve had to restrain him, for his safety as well as everyone around him. The hallucinations he’s experiencing seem to be very strong. There’s no telling what he could do if we left him unrestrained.”

“I want to see him.” Grace’s tone is firmer this time, the I-won’t-take-no-for-an-answer kind.  
The doctor sighs, too tired to argue. “Very well. Follow me.”  
   
TBC


	3. Chapter 3

I got my wish. I’ve stopped laughing. At least I think I have. Maybe I’ve just gone deaf. The cherubs have gone too, and Grace hasn’t come back yet. Now I’m sad because I’m alone.

I can feel something running down my face. It’s wet and horrible.

Are these tears?

Am I crying?

I don’t cry. I’ve never cried.

Except I could, I *would*, if Grace left again. If she never came back.

Wait, she *has* gone, and she hasn’t come back.

Fuck, I’m crying even harder now. I try to wipe the tears away but I can’t seem to move my arms. That’s a little weird, isn’t it? I look around, up and down, trying to locate said arms.

Ah, that explains it.

I don’t seem to have any.

Now that’s even fucking weirder.

I sigh, thinking life can’t get any bloody worse, when I see someone walking towards me. Is this Grace? I hope so.

*Sarah.*

Who the hell is that? The name keeps popping up in front of my eyes, like a mole sticking its head out of its hole, but I don’t know who she is.

Is this Sarah, walking towards me? I hope not. I want it to be Grace. I know Grace. I like Grace. I don’t know Sarah.

It’s a woman, I can tell that. And she looks normal. Well, I think she looks normal. She’s not a cherub, or rainbow coloured, so I’m guessing she’s pretty normal. Blonde hair, pale eyes; it’s not Grace. This woman is younger.

What’s that pressing on my heart?

Suddenly I’m lying on my back and there’s a weight on my chest. It’s got a huge fucking label on it, which reads G-U-I-L-T. Guilt. What the hell is that when it’s at home?

I look at this woman again and suddenly I want to scream. That’s not like me either, but her face is covered in blood. The stuff is dripping from her, and her eyes are staring right through me. That weight on my chest is crushing me and I want to shout that I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m being sorry for, but I feel like is all my fault.

The weight suddenly vanishes, along with the woman, but then someone else takes her place.

Dark hair.

Is this Sarah?

I don’t think I want to know. I don’t know if I care who Sarah is, really. I think I’m just curious.

No, I know this woman isn’t Sarah, whoever Sarah is. This woman is younger. She’s attempting to look serious, but I can see a crazy streak a mile wide in her. Something tells me that her and the girl-cherub with the spliff would get on pretty well.

Now she looks sad. And she’s looking at me as though it’s my fault too.

Christ, I’ve really fucked my life up, haven’t I?

I’m crying again, I think. Now I’ve started I can’t bloody well stop.

I think I preferred the laughing.  
   
TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The doctor takes Grace to see Boyd. He shows her into the room and Grace has to stop herself from running in the opposite direction. Boyd is strapped to the bed by his arms and legs, and the sheet only covers his bottom half, exposing his chest. Grace can’t help but stare at it, but luckily the doctor doesn’t notice.

“I can leave you alone with him for a short while, if you like. It might do him good,” the doctor says. “Talk to him quietly, but don’t get too near him. He’s very strong for his age. Almost broke one of the nurse’s noses when we were trying to restrain him.”

Grace smiles; that sounds like the Boyd she knows and loves. Wait, loves? As a friend…. Yes, that’s it. “Thank you, Doctor,” she replies, not looking at him. The click of the door tells her she’s alone.

Slowly, Grace moves towards the bed, mindful not to get too close, though she doubts Boyd would ever hurt her. But he’s not himself and that’s what she has to remember. She suddenly realises why his chest is exposed; she can feel the heat radiating off him from two feet away.

Without warning, Grace’s legs give way and she collapses into a chair. “Oh, Boyd.”

Grace wants to talk to him, wants to encourage him to find his way back from whatever place he’s found himself in, but she can’t speak. She has no words, so she just watches. Boyd looks like he’s laughing hysterically at something, but eventually the expression is replaced by frowns and sadness. Grace wants to touch his face, smooth the lines away, but she can’t.

She knows what needs to be done next; informing the team. She might even phone Frankie, if she can find where the wandering scientist has got too. And then there’s Sarah. Grace knows she should phone Sarah, but she doesn’t want to. After all, she’s in America, and even if she was here, what could she do?

Grace decides to phone later, when there’s more positive news. After all, there’s no point in worrying too many people unnecessarily, right?

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

“How is he?” Spencer asks as soon as Grace enters the bullpen, his expression grave.

“Give me a moment, Spence,” Grace snaps back, walking into her office. She drops her bag onto the couch, sits in her chair behind her desk and puts her face in her hands. She’s surprised to feel a hand on her should a few minutes later.

“Sorry,” Spencer says quietly.

Grace covers his hand with hers. “It’s okay, Spence. I’m sorry I snapped. Would you get Eve and Stella in here please?”

Spencer squeezes her shoulder briefly. “Okay.”

“What’s the prognosis?” Eve asks as she seats herself on Grace’s couch, her feet tucked under her.

“Boyd’s been given a large amount of a hallucinogen somehow, and the doctors are having trouble isolating it to flush it out of his system,” Grace explains. “If they can’t find out what it is, the chances are it’ll either poison him or destroy all of his mental functions, rendering him clinically insane.”

“Shit,” Eve says quietly, expressing how everyone feels.

“So what *can* the doctors do?” Stella asks.

“Right now, not a lot. They have Boyd physically restrained so he won’t harm himself or anyone else, and they’re attempting to keep him cool because he’s burning up. Beyond that….” Grace trails off and spreads her hands, the gesture itself expressing loss, but not as much as the look on her face. It’s obvious by her eyes; she doesn’t know what’s going to happen and she’s worried, but she’s valiantly trying to hold it together.

“Right, so we need to find out exactly how this stuff got into Boyd’s system,” Spencer says, all brisk and business-like.

Stella nods her agreement. “I’ll check where he had been during the twenty four hours before we found him.”

“Twelve,” Grace murmurs quietly.

“Pardon?”

“The doctor said it would only have taken a short while for the hallucinogen to makes its way into Boyd’s body,” Grace explains. “Twenty four hours would be too long.”

“Okay, the last twelve hours,” Spencer replies, clapping his hands together.

“I’ll get onto the hospital and see if they can give me details of the hallucinogen,” Eve adds. “I might be able to work out what it is, or at least what might slow it down.”

“I’m going to go back to the hospital. I think someone should stay with him,” Grace says.

Spencer looks at her. “Do you want me to drive you?”

Grace smiles and shakes her head. “No thanks, Spence. See you later.”

She pauses in the corridor and looks down into Boyd’s office. Some small part of her can’t understand why he’s not there - she thinks that’s the part that’s in denial about the whole situation.

Grace’s gaze then drifts into the bullpen where Stella and Spencer are already hard at work. A small sad smile tugs at Grace’s lips. If only Boyd could see them now….

He’d never admit it, but she knows he’d be proud.  
   
TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Grace.

Grace.

Grace.

*Grace.*

I keep saying the name over and over in my head like a mantra. I think knowing that she’s real helps me to focus. I’m starting to have lucid moments; at least I think they’re lucid.

I think I’m in hospital.

I think I’m sick.

Like possibly dying.

This is not good.

Grace.

Where is she?

Did I make her leave again? Was it something I said or didn’t say? Something I did or didn’t do? No, it’s not egotistical of me to think I made her leave; it’s an unfortunate and very likely possibility.

Grace is real. Maybe she just went…home? To work? Work…what job do I do? And the cherubs…are they real? I mean, I know cherubs aren’t real, but they could represent people I know.

I snort. I’m psychoanalysing; that’s what Grace is supposed to do, not me.

Shit, where did *that* come from?

I grimace in pain as I try to remember what it is I’ve forgotten. Grace psychoanalysing me…why is that important? The pain is intense, too much. I black out.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Sarah.

Damn, there’s that name again? Who the fuck *is* she? She’s not important to me; I don’t know her! But I can’t seem to get rid of that name.

The cherubs are back, briefly, though they’re starting to look more like people, so…I really should imagine them with clothes on. Eiw. Well, the girl cherubs are okay, but the other one? Eiw. Did I just say eiw? Wouldn’t ‘gross’ or ‘disgusting’ be more fitting for me to say?

Dammit, why can’t I remember what happened? What did I have hold of before I blacked out? Grace…psychoanalysing me…ouch, that hurts!

*Grace!!*

Mental note - don’t yell in your own head. It’s loud and it fucking hurts.

Great. I’ve stopped laughing, finally stopped crying. Now I just hurt in places I never even knew I had. I was shouting. Why was I shouting? That’s it; Grace. She’s walking towards me again. She’s smiling a little this time. I hope she’s going to stay this time.

Sarah.

No, I don’t want to know who she is. I don’t remember her. Even the cherubs invoke more feeling than that name, or the other women who have visited me. The ones I’ve let down. But not Sarah.

Grace is sat on a floating cloud-like carpet looking serene, and beautiful. She always looks beautiful but I don’t think I tell her enough. Maybe I should. If I ever make it out of here. Wherever here is.

Sarah.

I want to know who she is so I can put her out of my mind. Grace is still here and now I feel sleepy. I just hope the little z’s that appear when I snore don’t puncture Grace’s cloud. She’d never forgive me if that happened.

*Sarah.*

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Grace wants to be at the hospital as much as possible. She knows if she stays in the office she’ll only be in the way, and she knows the team will function just as well if she isn’t there. On her way to the hospital, she stops to pick up a few magazines and newspapers. She figures it’ll give her something to do, and also she can read to Boyd. It might help him.

Grace walks into the room and her heart constricts. Her eyes well up, even though she promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She has to be strong, but right now she wants someone else to take that burden. She wants Boyd to wake up and do something he’s never done; hug her. Give her reassurance, because despite everything, she draws her strength from him at times. No one knows it, not even Boyd, but she does. Grace needs him as much as he needs her.

She sits next to the bed and reads silently, occasionally glancing over at Boyd. His expression changes almost constantly, and Grace can only imagine what’s going on inside his head.

Spencer, Stella and Eve visit at lunch time, bringing Grace much needed food and the chance for a break. When she returns, they leave, saying they’re working as hard as they can. They’ll phone if there’s any news; Grace says she’ll do the same.

She starts to read the newspaper out loud, focussing on the sports section and general articles of interest, steering well clear of the business section. She can’t be sure, but she thinks Boyd seems to calm somewhat. Grace smiles, knowing that’s probably just wishful thinking. It would be nice to believe she had a calming influence on the tyrant, though most other people thought she did.

When Grace starts to feel tired, she stands and walks around the room. She doesn’t know what time it is and she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to leave him. Standing next to Boyd’s bed, Grace looks down at him and gives into impulse. She reaches down and brushes a stubborn strand of hair off his forehead.

Then her world crashes down.

Boyd speaks, the only word that he’s spoken since he was found. One word that causes so much pain. His voice is scratchy and hoarse, hardly recognisable as his own.

“Sarah.”

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Grace doesn’t remember getting back to work. She doesn’t remember shutting her office door and the blinds, and holding her head in her hands again. She shouldn’t be surprised that Boyd asked for his girlfriend, but it still hurts. She’s not exactly sure why it hurts so much, but being a psychologist, she’s beginning to guess, and she’s not surprised by the answer either.

Grace cares for Boyd more than a friend, but perhaps less than a lover at the moment. After all, he is notoriously difficult and extremely bastard-like most of the time, yet there’s something more under that façade. But Grace knows Boyd will never see her as anything other than Grace, his friend and colleague.

She counts to twenty before standing and walking across to Boyd’s office. Spencer and Stella are clever enough to know that Grace’s body language means ‘don’t talk to me if you want your head to stay attached to your body’. Grace knows what she’s looking for, it’s just finding where it might be that’s the problem. Hitting the speed dial numbers might not be such a good idea, and Boyd is not the most organised of people.

Then she finds it, on a scrappy piece of paper, and picking it up like one would a poisonous snake, Grace heads back to her own office, closing the door again behind her. She sits at her desk and stares at the paper for such a long time. A phone call, so simple, but so difficult.

Grace glances to her left, somewhat out of habit, and even though the blinds are shut, she can see Boyd sat in his office. The image gives her strength. Grace picks up the phone and dials Sarah’s number, not knowing what time it is in America and not really caring.

*“Hello?”* Sarah answers.

“Hi, Sarah, it’s - Grace,” Grace replies, though with a stutter. “Grace Foley, I work with Boyd.”

*“I remember you, Grace,”* Sarah says, a smile obvious in her voice. *“How are you?”*

“I’m okay, thanks. How are you? I’m not calling too late, am I?”

*“No, of course not. What can I do for you?”*

Grace hesitates. “Well…it’s Boyd.”

*“What’s happened?”* Sarah asks, the concern now evident in her tone.

Grace quickly recounts what they know so far, and then she explains why she didn’t phone sooner. She finishes by saying that the only word Boyd has spoken so far is Sarah’s name. “I know you’re busy, but I think he needs you,” Grace finishes.

*“I’ll be on the next flight over, Grace,”* Sarah says. *“Thank you.”*

“See you soon, then.”

Grace puts the phone down and expects silence to fill her office. But there isn’t silence. There’s the sound of her heart starting to splinter. It’s splintering with the knowledge that not only is Boyd in love with someone else, but he doesn’t even seem to value Grace’s friendship any more. She can’t remember the last time they just…talked, and he did use to talk to her when he had a problem.

Her heart aches with sadness, and Grace finds herself contemplating her future. She isn’t sure that the cold case unit will feature in it or not.  
   
TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Grace left me looking unhappy. I wish I knew what I’d done. Mind you, even if I did, I couldn’t make it right. I know I’m not good with things like that.

But I miss her. It’s lonely without Grace. She’s like my security blanket.

But other people have been visiting me. Not the cherubs, and strangely enough, I miss them too. No, these people are serious and they smell funny, like TCP or something. Like a hospital. Now why would they want to smell like a hospital? Honestly, I wonder what these perfume companies will think up next.

No, wait, hospital….

Why is that important?

Oh, that’s right. Because I’m in one. Very ill.

But there’s a rainbow appearing on the horizon, pulled by a dozen green unicorns…only they’ve got three horns, not one, so they’d be…what? Tricorns? Doesn’t sound the same, does it?

*“Well I’m sorry for showing a friendly interest in your life.”*

The rainbow shatters like glass, and the fragments cut me as they shower me. The pain is unimaginable. Where did that come from, that thought? Is it a real, a memory, or something my mind just made up? I try to concentrate on it, but it slips through my fingers like sand.

There’s someone appearing in the distance. Why are they always in the distance? Why can’t they just appear at my side? Do they need the exercise or something?

It’s the young blonde woman, but there’s no blood on her this time, something I’m thankful for. She stops some feet away from me, just stands and stares.

Is there something on my face?

I reach up, surprised I have arms and that they move this time, and I find my face wet.

Are these bloody tears again?

No, these tears are red.

So, yes, they are bloody tears. Literally.

My face is covered in blood. I can feel it running down my jaw and dripping off my chin onto my chest. I can feel it soaking through my clothes and skin until I’m sure I’m completely red.

There’s nothing for it.

I start laughing.

The woman stares at me for a while longer before turning and walking away.

I wonder what she wants from me.

*Gracie Gracie, pudding and pie.*

Whoever’s singing wants to shut up. They’ve got a crap voice and that song is stupid.

*Gracie Gracie, pudding and pie.*

Grace would kill them. That I know for sure. Hell, if they don’t shut up, *I’m* going to kill them. But they do sound happy.

*Gracie Gracie, pudding and pie.*

Sod it.

I laugh even harder.

Seems to be the thing to be done around here, and I’m starting to enjoy it.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Bright lights hurt my eyes. I wonder how it got morning so soon and why I didn’t close the curtains last night. I wonder why the sun is so bright, and I wonder if I left the light on last night.  
Then I realise I’m not at home, and those lights are from a torch being shone in my eyes and the bulbs in the ceiling.

I try to speak.

Nothing comes out.

Crap.

Where am I?

What happened?

*Who* am I?

I have a bad feeling about all of this. I’m smart enough to realise I’m in hospital, and I also know I don’t like them very much.

An argument. That’s why I’m here. That’s all I remember for now but it’s a start.

I am a policeman, after all. Deduction is what I do.

And my name is Boyd. Peter Boyd.

Oh, what the hell, that was a good joke. I start laughing again.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

It’s been days since Grace has been back to the hospital. She lets Stella or Spencer, or even Eve, go instead. Grace has found plenty of reasons not to go, and no one argues with her. She’s also managed to track down Frankie…well, sort of. She’s found where the scientist is working and left a message, telling Frankie which hospital Boyd’s in and basically what’s wrong with him.

Grace has also been looking at jobs. She doesn’t really want to leave, but it’s obvious Boyd doesn’t want or need her any more, and that hurts. Grace needs to feel appreciated, even if it’s only slightly, and she doesn’t feel that now. Even Spencer and Stella don’t turn to her for help or guidance or support any more. Grace knows she has to face the truth; she’s obsolete.

“I’ve got something!” Eve shouts triumphantly, bursting into the bullpen.

Grace pulls herself out of her reverie and goes to see what the scientist has discovered. “What is it?” Spencer asks, leaning onto his desk.

“It’s the ingredients for the drug Boyd was given,” Eve says, walking up to the wipe board. “I’ve been in contact with the hospital and they’ve allowed me access to his blood samples. They said they needed all the help they could get.”

Grace sits between Stella and Spencer, one arm across her stomach, the other hand covering her mouth. “Is it serious?” she asks.

“Well…yes,” Eve replies honestly. “Boyd’s been given a combination of deliriants and dissociatives.”

“Meaning?” Stella asks.

“Basically, both will make a person experiences hallucinations of different strengths,” Eve answers, sticking pieces of paper to the board. “I’ve managed to isolate three of the four ingredients for the drug.”

“Let me guess - the one you can’t isolate is the one that’s causing the doctors a headache,” Spencer says.

Eve nods. “The drug contains henbane, ketamine and phenylcyclohexylpiperidine.”

“What?” Stella asks, looking confused.

“It’s common name is phencyclidine, or PCP,” Grace replies. “Am I right?”

Eve nods again. “Henbane is a deliriant, which can be toxic in low doses. It causes hallucinations, dilated pupils, restlessness and flushed skin, which fits with Boyd’s condition perfectly.”

“What about the other two ‘ingredients‘?” Spencer asks.

“They’re are dissociatives,” Eve replies. “Ketamine causes hallucinations as well, and can be an anaesthetic. PCP is also a hallucinogenic and it’s a neurotoxin.”

Grace looks up in shock. “It damages the nerve tissue?”

Eve nods once more. “This is a lethal combination of drugs. I honestly don’t know how Boyd is still alive, let alone seemingly fighting it off.”

Grace looks at Spencer and Stella, surprised by that piece of news. She realises she really hasn’t been paying attention to their reports on his progress. But luckily no one notices her astonishment.

Spencer nods as well. “He does seem to be recovering, and his eyes are open now.”

Grace wants to scream. How could she have missed that development? She’s been so wrapped up in herself, her own thoughts, that she’s failed to notice Boyd getting better. Grace suddenly realises she can’t leave. Boyd might not need her, but she needs him in her life somehow. She’s got to support him, at least until he’s better.

“Has anyone been to see him today?” she asks.

Stella shakes her head. “We’ve not had the chance.”

“Anything else you can tell us, Eve?” Grace inquires, steering the conversation back to the drug Boyd’s been given.

“Not yet. And until I can figure out what the fourth component is, the hospital can’t administer anything to Boyd because it might cause a negative reaction,” Eve says. “So I’m going to get back to the lab.”

“We’ve tracked Boyd’s movements up until just before he was found,” Spencer tells Grace.

“Good work.” Grace stands and heads into her office.

Spencer frowns. “Don’t you want to know what we’ve found?”

Grace sighs, her inner voice saying, *‘not really’*. “Go on,” she says instead.

“After leaving work, Boyd went to a bar just down the road,” Stella replies.

Grace waits for her to continue. When she doesn’t, Grace says, “And?”

“And that’s it for now. We’re waiting for CCTV footage from the bar to see if Boyd talked to anyone, or if anyone doctored his drink,” Stella tells her.

“Is that it? I thought you’d found something important,” Grace snaps slightly.

“We’re working as hard as we can, Grace,” Spencer replies. “We’ve got a case to do as well, you know. You were the last person to see Boyd, and you were the one that found him.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Is there anything you can tell us?” Spencer asks quietly.

*“Well I’m sorry for showing a friendly interest in your life.”*

Grace shakes her head. “Nothing.”

*“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk’ don’t you understand?!”*

“Are you sure?” Stella asks.

*“You don’t know me.”*

Grace closes her eyes briefly. “I’m sure.”

*“Nobody knows you because you won’t let them!”*

Spencer shrugs. “Okay. Are you going to the hospital now?”

“Yes. I’ll be back later.” Grace waves and leaves.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

When Grace enters Boyd’s room, she sees Spencer was right. Boyd’s eyes are open and he’s looking around the room. He seems to hear the door open and his head turns slightly to see who’s entered.

Grace doesn’t recognise him, and it breaks her heart to see he doesn’t recognise her either. “Oh, Boyd,” she whispers.

She can’t say any more; she doesn’t know what to say. So she just sits down, as far away from him as possible, as though being near Boyd is physically painful for her.

Grace isn’t sure how long she’s there, but the longer she sits in silence, the more she realises she has to tell Boyd how she feels. Grace thinks this might be the only chance she’ll get.

The door opens before she can speak, and Grace turns to see who it is.

“Hi,” Sarah says. “DI Jordan told me you’d be here. I called at the office first. I wanted to check I had the right hospital.”

“Hi,” Grace replies, forcing a smile onto her face. “I was just going.”

“Please, don’t leave on my account.” Sarah walks into the room slowly. “Has there been any improvement?”

“His eyes are open now, and he seems to be a little more responsive.”

Sarah watches Boyd’s eyes flicker from her to Grace, and she sees something she doesn’t think Grace has noticed. “Do you know what happened?”

Grace quickly recounts what they know so far, which isn’t a great deal but it’s a start. But Grace doesn’t tell Sarah everything - she can’t. She doesn’t even want to admit it to herself. Grace knows one day she’ll have to, though.

“I’d better get back to the office,” Grace says.

Sarah nods. “I’ll call if there’s any change.”

“Thanks,” Grace replies, and all but runs from the room, and the hospital.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

I wish this woman would piss off. She’s been here for hours, maybe even days, and she just won’t shut up. Do I look like I care what she’s saying? Do I really look like I give a shit?

*Frankie.*

Now where the hell did that name come from? Is it a man, a woman, or a pissing dog?

It seems to have done the trick, anyway; the woman’s stopped talking. I *think* it’s Sarah, but I don’t know. Mind you, I don’t know this Sarah, so it could be her. Whoever it is, she’s looking at me funny.

And now she’s gone.

Thank fuck for that.

I have a few peaceful minutes before someone else comes into the room. I’ve seen this woman before; I remember her from one of my stronger hallucinations. I hope this isn’t a hallucination. She looks sad, and scared.

And like she wants to slap me.

What the hell did I do this time?!

*Frankie.*

The woman smiles; I think I’ve finally got something right. I can put a name to a face. This is Frankie. And I still say she’d get on well with the spliff-smoking, black nail polish wearing cherub.

*I’m sorry.*

Frankie looks like she’s going to cry. Or slap me again. Or both. Luckily, she does neither. She puts her hand on my forearm, even though she’s not supposed to come near me - apparently I’m dangerous - and smiles again. God, she’s got a beautiful smile. Reminds me of Grace.

*Grace.*

Now Frankie’s looking at me strangely. I want to ask if I’ve got something on my face, but I still can’t speak.

Now Frankie’s leaning forward and talking to me. She asks about Sarah.

*Who?*

She asks about Spencer, Stella and Eve.

*Who?*

She asks about Felix and Mel.

*Who?… Mel…I’m sorry.*

Now Frankie’s crying, but smiling. She says everything’s okay and that she forgives me. Then she asks about Grace.

In my head, I’m smiling.

*Grace. Smells nice. Beautiful. Keeps leaving me. Want her to stay.*

I *wish* I could say this out loud! But then again, I wouldn’t be me if I did.

Frankie’s looking at me strange again. Then she grows serious, and I worry. I think I’m about to get told off, or warned.

I’m not disappointed.

When she finishes speaking, I understand what I’ve got to do if I ever get the chance, but it won’t be easy. Mind you, compared with a violent and brutal death at the hands of Frankie, doing something extremely difficult is preferable.

*I miss you.*

Now Frankie’s smiling again, and crying. God, this woman’s emotional. Or do I just bring it out in her? Then she does something she’s not supposed to, for more than one reason; she leans forward and kisses my cheek lightly.

She promises she won’t leave it as long until her next visit, and then she leaves. But I’m not sad. There’s something about Frankie that’s safe and comforting and familiar…if you ignore that crazy streak.

A scene filters through to my conscience. Frankie half under a car. A bomb, dud but we didn’t know it at the time. I was worried shitless. She thought it was funny. Bloody women.  
   
TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Grace didn’t want to come to the hospital, but Spencer made her. He wants to know how Boyd is, told Grace it was her turn to visit him. Grace doesn’t want to know, only because she doesn’t want to see *her*.

Grace shakes her head. She knows she’s being stupid; after all, Sarah has been nothing but polite and nice since she arrived. She doesn’t want to spend every minute with Boyd, and is quite happy for Grace to be there. But Grace isn’t happy. Grace is feeling selfish now; she wants Boyd to herself.

“You look like you could use something stronger, but this is all I could find,” a familiar voice says, and Grace looks up, startled.

Standing in front of her, holding two cups, is a very familiar face, one Grace has never been happier to see. “Frankie!” Grace stands quickly, as Frankie puts the cups down, and the two women embrace fiercely. They haven’t seen each other for years, and their concern for the same man makes their reunion all the more poignant. “I see you got my message.”

Frankie nods. They separate and sit down close to each other. “You’re lucky you caught me. I’m off out of the country again next week.”

“I take it you’re enjoying yourself?” Grace asks, and Frankie nods.

“It’s not cold cases, but it’s interesting.”

“You miss cold cases?”

“I miss the team,” Frankie replies. “Even Boyd.”

“He misses you. He’d never say it, but he does.”

“Yeah, well….” Frankie drifts off. “How serious is it?” she asks eventually.

“Serious,” Grace replies, lowering her gaze.

“Who’s in with him now?”

“Sarah.”

“Who is…?”

Grace looks up, surprised. “You really have been out of the loop, haven’t you?”

Frankie smiles. “So fill me in. All the gossip.”

“Sarah is Boyd’s girlfriend.”

Frankie chokes on her coffee. “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“You would if you’d been on the case with us,” Grace says, the hint of bitterness in her voice not missed by the other woman.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Frankie asks.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Frankie smiles. “I may not be a psychologist, but I do know you, Grace. Something’s bothering you.”

Grace bits her lip and looks down again. “I miss him, Frankie. And I - I don’t know what I’d do if he died.”

“Do you love him?” Frankie asks quietly, ever the one for being blunt.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Inside the room, Sarah is talking to Boyd in the hopes he’ll hear her and wake up. She doesn’t know if it helps or not, but she’s willing to try.

But Sarah isn’t stupid; she knows there’s no recognition behind Boyd’s eyes when he sees her. Not like there is with Grace.

“Frankie.” Boyd’s voice is so hoarse and scratchy, Sarah doesn’t recognise it at first. Then she realises Boyd has actually spoken, and now he’s asking for someone else. Sarah starts to think that maybe Boyd is seeing people, or names, and that he doesn’t actually know who they are.

Sarah now realises it’s possible that when Boyd said her name, he wasn’t actually asking for her. Does it hurt? Not as much as it should, which tells her something. Smiling slightly, Sarah stands and goes to see Grace. She thinks Grace knows who Frankie it.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Grace looks up once more, but before she can reply, an exclamation of, “I don’t believe it!” echoes down the corridor. Not that Grace needed to reply - her expression told Frankie everything she needed to know.

The two women turn to see the rest of the team heading towards them, and Spencer’s grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Spence!” Frankie says, standing, beaming and bracing herself for the inevitable bear hug. It comes, along with being swung around. Frankie yells Spence’s name again, though with more protest this time.

“How’ve you been?” Spencer asks when he finally sets her down.

“Fine. How about you?”

“Other than being shot, never better,” he replies, grinning.

Frankie stares at him. “I really need to catch up on gossip.”

“True. But first, introductions.” Spencer turns, his arm still around his old friend. “Frankie, this is DC Stella Goodman and Dr. Eve Lockhart. She’s crazy, just like you.”

Frankie slaps Spencer’s arm. “Thanks, Spence!” She turns to the other two women and shakes hands with them both. “Nice to meet you.”

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

When Sarah walks out of the room, she thinks she’s stumbled into a party, though second glance tells her a reunion of sorts is going on. She watches the four women teasing Spencer for a moment, noting how close they all are with each other, although there’s one of the women she doesn’t recognise.

Eventually, Sarah walks up to them. “Hi,” she says quietly, not wanting to intrude too much.

“Hi,” Grace replies. “How is he?”

“Still the same, although he did ask for someone.”

Spencer looks at Sarah with interest. “Who?”

“Frankie.” All eyes turn to Frankie and Sarah looks surprised. “You’re Frankie?” she asks.

Frankie nods. “Okay, that is just weird.”

“This is Boyd we’re talking about,” Grace replies, smiling. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Frankie looks surprised now. “What?”

“I think Grace wants you to go and see him,” Eve says quietly. “And we all know not to argue with Grace.”

Frankie grins now. “Tell me about it. Okay, I’m going.”

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Frankie is prepared for Boyd being restrained - Grace told her about it - but she’s still shocked to see the man she looked up to, the man who was always so strong, looking so helpless. She now knows why Grace is so worried; things don’t look good at all.

Frankie thinks that if Boyd has the audacity to die, she’ll go into hell, drag his arse out and then kick it all the way back again, because if he dies, Grace will never recover. She’ll never be Grace again.

“Frankie,” Boyd says, and he’s looking at her.

Frankie smiles. “Hi, Boyd. What’ve you gone and done this time? Honestly, without someone to hold your hand all the time, you’re just a trouble magnet, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry.”

Frankie stares at him, knowing he isn’t apologising for his current predicament. He’s apologising for everything he ever did wrong, for letting her go so easily; Frankie can tell by his eyes and his voice, croaky as it is.

She knows she shouldn’t but she doesn’t care. Frankie moves the chair close to the bed and puts her hand on Boyd’s forearm. She says, “It’s okay, Boyd. I forgive you, but only because you look so pathetic at the moment,” before she smiles at him.

“Grace.”

Frankie stares at Boyd. He knows Grace. There’s recognition there, and something else. “Don’t worry, Grace isn’t far away.” Frankie leans forward more. “Boyd, do you know Sarah?”

“Who?”

“Do you know Spencer, Eve or Stella?”

“Who?”

“Do you know Felix or Mel?” Grace told Frankie her replacement was called Felix Gibson, but Frankie doesn’t know what happened to Felix. She stopped talking to Grace not long after Felix started working with the cold case unit. Not for any particular reason, it just…happened.

“Who?” Then Boyd’s expression changes. “Mel…I’m sorry.”

Frankie starts to cry, but she smiles as well. “Mel forgives you, I’m sure of it.” She wipes her face. “Okay, Boyd, tell me about Grace.”

Boyd smiles back at Frankie, and it’s such an innocent, pure expression that she wants to start crying all over again. “Grace,” he says with such affection that, had he been truly conscious of what was going on, he’d want to die of embarrassment know someone else knew how much he cares about the psychologist. “She smells nice. And she’s beautiful. But she keeps leaving me. I want her to stay.”

Frankie is stunned. She’s sure that’s the most Boyd’s spoken since he’s been in hospital, and it was almost a coherent sentence. But it was also *what* he said. She knows, again, had he been aware of what he was saying…well, he wouldn’t have said it.

“Okay, Boyd, now listen carefully. I’ve got something to say that you might not like, but you’re not in a position to argue,” Frankie says seriously. “Grace cares about you a lot, like possibly loves you a lot. And I think you care a lot about her too, but you’re too scared to say anything. I don’t know if you love her or not, but I did spend four years around you two and sometimes, the tension was thick enough to sculpt with a scalpel.” Frankie pauses, makes sure she has Boyd’s attention. She has. “So what I want you to do when you wake up properly, providing you remember this conversation, is talk to Grace. Tell her how you feel. Do something completely out of character and open up to her. Maybe even hug her. She needs you, though she’d never tell anyone. But I can see it. And, Boyd, if you hurt her, I’ll kill you and make sure no one ever finds the body.” That’s no empty threat, either; Frankie cares a lot about Grace too and while she knows Boyd could make her happy, he could also hurt her more than anyone else. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Boyd?”

Boyd blinks once slowly, his eyes never leaving Frankie, and she takes that to mean ‘yes’. Then he shocks her again. “I miss you,” he whispers.

His sentiment is so genuine that Frankie starts to cry again, but she’s smiling as well. She can’t say she misses him too; up until this incident, she’s tried not to think about him. But now Frankie knows that if Boyd died, she would miss him. So she does something she’s not supposed to do.  
She leans forward and kisses his cheek lightly. “I won’t leave it so long before my next visit, okay?” Frankie says. “And hopefully you’ll be back to your shouting, impatient self before I have to leave the country for work next week.” She smiles at him. “Bye, Boyd.”  
   
TBC


	11. Chapter 11

*“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk’ don’t you understand?!”*

That was me. I realise that now. I was yelling at someone. Who was it?

Frankie left me, but that’s okay. I know she’ll be back. The woman who I think is Sarah came back, though, and left again, but no Grace. I want to know where Grace is.

*Grace.*

The man who is in the room turns quickly. I didn’t even realise he was there. He’s the coloured…black - whatever the hell you want to call him - cherub. He looks familiar, now…now his arse isn’t showing everywhere. Now that’s he’s proper sized and without wings.

He looks at me…am I talking out loud?

*Spence.*

I can’t hear my own voice if I am talking, and I can only hear part of what he’s saying to me. Something about an office. Is that where Grace is?

*“Nobody knows you because you won’t let them!”*

There was an argument - was I involved in it? Probably. I usually am. I’m usually the one who starts the arguments. I remember that now. Things are starting to become clearer, I think.

*Argument.*

Spencer looks at me. I know it’s Spence because he reacted when I said his name. Because when I look at him, I recognise him as Spence now. He’s talking to me, but suddenly I feel a surge in my veins. The drug is trying to take over again, and I’m too weak to fight them.

Spencer suddenly shrinks, looses all his clothes and grows wings. He starts flying around and pointing at me, giggling like a lunatic.

No, wait. That’s me. I have to admit, I’ve missed the laughing. Maybe I should do more of it, if I ever get out of here.

The cherub flies off, replaced by…well, I think it’s a woman, but I’m not sure. She’s covered in war paint, camouflage-coloured, and she looks like a fighter. Who the hell is she?

*Gracie Gracie, pudding and pie.*

I like that song; it’s easy to remember and easy to sing. I think I’ll just carry on singing.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

*“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk’ don’t you understand?!”

“Well I’m sorry for showing a friendly interest in your life.”

“You’re not showing an interest - you’re being nosey!”

“Really? I thought we were supposed to be friends, and friends show concern. They’re not ‘nosey’, as you put it!”

“Well I’m fine.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Nobody knows you because you won’t let them! But I know you better than anyone else.”

“You’ve got a high opinion of yourself, haven’t you?”

“You are unbelievable sometimes! I just want to help and you…you….”

“I what?”

“You push me away because you’re scared!”

“I’m scared?!”

“Yes, scared. Scared of letting someone in, of letting someone care about you!”

“Are you deliberately forgetting Sarah?”

“Oh no, how could I?”

“You’re just pissed off because you were wrong about me.”

“How was I wrong?”

“I’m not unloved any more, or repressed and depressed.”

“Why does everything have to turn into an argument with you?

“Maybe you bring the argument out in me, Grace! Maybe this is all your fault!”*

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

*Gracie Gracie, pudding and pie.  
Gracie Gracie, pudding and pie.  
Gracie Gracie, pudding and pie.*

Spliff-smoking, black nail polish wearing cherub’s been back to see me, though she kept changing between a cherub and a woman. She took something from my arm. It hurt, and I think I tried to hurt her back. Something tells me I should apologise later on.

Lady with the war paint came back. I remember that she’s called Sarah. I’m having more and more lucid moments, and I remember having a dream about an argument. I feel that it’s important; it could be the reason I’m in here.

While the war paint lady - I mean Sarah - is talking to me, someone else approaches. Young woman, blonde hair.

*Mel.*

Sarah stops talking and just looks at me. Mel is in my head, I think, but that doesn’t make her any less real to me. In fact, I know Mel is only in my head; she’s dead. She’s dead because I couldn’t protect her.

*I’m sorry.*

Mel just stares at me, and it suddenly occurs she’s probably wondering what I’m apologising for. I really shouldn’t just say ‘sorry’; that makes it meaningless. I must learn that when I say sorry, I’ve got to specify what for.

*I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry for all the times I was too hard on you. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.*

Mel is still staring at me, but then she smiles and it reminds me of Frankie. Frankie who was here earlier, who told me some things I still remember, and that I mustn’t forget. Frankie, whose smile reminds me of Grace. I guess that means Mel’s smile reminds me of Grace too.

Another scene, a fragment of the past. Sat in an office, teasing Spencer. Frankie’s there, so is Mel, and Grace. And we were all happy.

*I miss you.*

Mel’s smile grows sad and she nods. Seems like she misses me too. That’s a nice, warm, comforting thought. Then she reaches out for me, like she wants me to take her hand. I hesitate. Somehow I know that if I do take it, I won’t see Mel again. She’ll only be real in my memories, and I kind of like having her around. Like with Frankie. But I know I’ll see Frankie again when I wake up. I’ll never see Mel again.

But it’s got to be done. I can’t live like this. Slowly I reach out and take it, surprised at how solid her fingers feel between mine. Part of me wonders if I’ve accidentally taken hold of Sarah’s hand, but I’m still restrained and Sarah is now watching me from the other side of the room. I guess I must look strange, talking to myself. But I don’t care.

I pull Mel towards me, wanting to do something I never had the chance to; I hug her, like a father would a daughter. I place a soft kiss on the top of her head, and when I let her go, the smile she gives me is like the sun coming up. It warms me, from my toes to the top of my head, and like when Frankie was here, I suddenly know everything’s going to be alright. I’ve got a lot to sort out when I ‘get back’, and some of it won’t be easy, but in the long run, everything will be alright.  
   
TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Grace is at the hospital again. It seems the less time she *wants* to spend there, the more she *actually* spends there. Being a psychologist, she understands the utter irony of that. She’s not impressed by it - hates it, in fact - but she understands it.

Her fingers ghost over her cheek in thought, and her mind turns to the conversation she had with Frankie earlier that day. Grace thinks that Frankie’s words did actually leave a physical imprint on her, hence the cheek-rubbing. Grace smiles ruefully; if everything had been normal, she would never have allowed Frankie talk to her like that, friend or not. But everything was *not* normal, and Frankie *had* talked to her like that. Told her a few home truths, in fact.

Frankie had dropped by the CCHQ unannounced, and being Frankie, she had started in the lab and worked backwards. Grace, by a twist of fate or stroke of luck or simple Sod’s Law, wasn’t in her office, having gone to answer a call of nature. Frankie wandered around the room, taking in all the effects of Grace’s that hadn’t changed in just over two years.

The scientist wasn’t being nosey, but she couldn’t help noticing some papers on Grace’s desk. They were just…sitting there, asking to be read. So Frankie took a glance.

When Grace came back, she didn’t notice Frankie was in the room. That was until she heard the door shut rather loudly and the blinds being closed.

“Sit down,” Frankie had said, standing in front of the door with her arms crossed, looking very, very upset. Grace did as she was told; she was too tired to argue. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Like what?” Grace had asked.

“Like this,” Frankie had replied, walking over to the desk and pointing rather harshly at the papers that lay there.

Grace followed the vicious pointing finger and her gaze fell on her job applications and resignation letter. “Oh.”

Frankie sat down and reached across to touch Grace’s arm. “Well?”

Grace took a deep breath. “I argued with Boyd the last time I saw him. We - we said things we shouldn’t have done. I - I think he went to the pub afterwards.”

Frankie just stared. “Have you told Spence and the others about this?”

Grace shook her head. “No.”

“Oh, Grace.” Frankie squeezed the psychologist’s hand. “So what was the argument about?”

Grace turned instinctively to look in the direction of Boyd’s office. “Well….”

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

*Grace just walked into Boyd’s office and sat down. “Is everything alright?”

Boyd looked up and peered over his glasses. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“The case…I just thought….” Grace trailed off. They had just completed a case in which a young boy had killed in gangland violence. The boy was the same age as Boyd’s son, Joe, would have been, and Boyd seem particularly - and understandably - affected by it.

“I’m fine, Grace.”

Grace regarded him for a few moments before talking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.”

Boyd stopped writing, put the pen down slowly and took his glasses off. “Pardon?”

“I said I don’t believe you, Boyd,” Grace repeated firmly.

He leant across the desk. “I said I’m fine. That means I’m fine.”

“No, that means you don’t want to talk, or you don’t want to admit that something’s wrong. Or admit that the case affected you because it reminded you of your own son!” Grace shook her head in exasperation.

“You’re right, I don’t want to talk. Happy now?”

“No, I’m not. Boyd, you can’t keep everything inside….”

Boyd groaned. “Oh please, Grace, not with the ‘repressed, depressed’ again. I don‘t need psychoanalysing.”

“It’s true. You need to talk, Boyd.”

“I don’t want to,” he replied firmly.

“You will need to at some point,” Grace told him.

Boyd exploded. “What part of ‘I don’t want to talk’ don’t you understand?!”

“Well I’m sorry for showing a friendly interest in your life!” Grace almost shouted back.

“You’re not showing an interest - you’re being nosey!” Boyd retorted heatedly.

“Really? I thought we were supposed to be friends, and friends show concern. They’re not ‘nosey’, as you put it!”

“I’ve already told you, and I don’t like repeating myself,” he told her, his tone ominous. “I’m fine.”

“And I still think you’re lying.”

“You don’t know me,” Boyd said flatly.

“Nobody knows you because you won’t let them!” Grace all but yelled back. She knew she was getting worked up because she was starting to gesture wildly with her hands, but she couldn’t stop herself. “But I know you better than anyone else.”

“You’ve got a high opinion of yourself, haven’t you?”

“You are unbelievable sometimes! I just want to help and you…you….”

Boyd‘s eyes narrowed. “I what?”

“You push me away because you’re scared!” Grace told him firmly.

“I’m scared?!”

“Yes, scared. Scared of letting someone in, of letting someone care about you!”

“Are you deliberately forgetting Sarah?” he asked.

Grace rolled her eyes. “Oh no, how could I?” she replied, her tone sarcastic.

“You’re just pissed off because you were wrong about me.”

“How was I wrong?”

“I’m not unloved any more, or repressed and depressed, despite what you might think.”

“Why does everything have to turn into an argument with you?” Grace asked, her hands still gesturing wildly, apparently of their own accord.

“Maybe you bring the argument out in me, Grace! Maybe this is all your fault!” Boyd yelled, his hands mirroring hers in actions, though neither were aware of that.

Grace glared at him. “That is so typical of you, blaming someone else for your mistakes! It would be so easy if all this was my fault, wouldn’t it? If you could blame me for bringing out all your worst traits! Well, I’m sorry, Boyd, but I won’t be your scapegoat any longer.”

Boyd’s expression turned grave and Grace recognised what it meant; she’d seen that look hundreds of times in the interview room. It usually meant Boyd was about to go robot - he would stop thinking, stop feeling, and just do or say whatever he wanted.

“If you leave this time, Dr. Foley, make sure you don’t come back,” he said flatly.

Grace looked shocked. “What?”

“You left once and then you came back. Don’t use it as a threat,” Boyd told her firmly. “If you say you’re going to leave, then make sure you do, and that you don’t come back.”

His words tore right through her, and she knew he was doing it deliberately, but Grace didn’t know* why. *“You know something, Boyd, maybe it’s you who should leave. Maybe you should just piss off and leave us all alone because God knows we’d be a lot happier.”*

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Frankie just stared at Grace, knowing how much pain the profiler must have been suffering after an argument like that. Frankie has always known that Boyd and Grace bring out the worst in each other, as well as the best. She just never expected them to tear strips so deeply off each other.

“What happened after that?” Frankie asked once Grace had composed herself. She wasn’t crying, but she was visibly shaken. Having to recount one of the worst arguments in her life wasn’t pleasant for Grace.

“Boyd just stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, then he stood up, got his jacket off the back of the chair and left the office,” Grace replied, and then shook her head. “I don’t ever know why we were arguing about! It was like when I left a few weeks ago all over again!”

“What happened a few weeks ago?” Frankie asked.

Grace quickly explained the appearance of the necklace that brought back so many bad memories. “We were talking about Mel,” the profiler explained. “One minute we were discussing the necklace amicably, the next thing I’m calling him repressed, depressed and unloved, and then I left.”

Frankie just nodded once. “Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say, but then something popped into her head. “But that’s not true, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Boyd isn’t unloved, is he? And I don’t mean Sarah,” Frankie said quickly.

Grace stared at her friend, wanting to disagree with the insinuation, but she found herself unable to. Instead, she settled for, “Can you help him?”

Frankie blinked in surprise at the change in conversation. “What do you mean?”

“You and Eve are both brilliant scientists,” Grace replied. “There’s a fourth ingredient in the drug Boyd was given that Eve can’t identify. Can you help her?”

Frankie thought about it, then smiled. “For you, Grace - and for Boyd - of course.”

Grace smiled back. “Thank you.”

“Now, about that resignation letter and those job applications.”

“Frankie….”

“No, Grace, you’re going to listen to me because it’s about time someone talked some sense into you.”

“This should be interesting,” Grace muttered.

Frankie glared. “I heard that. Now, I want you to tear those pieces of paper up and throw them away. You’re not leaving; you can’t. Boyd needs you, the team needs you, and not just to keep Boyd in line. You’re a damn good psychologist, Grace, and I’ve seen you work your magic on many cases that, without you, we wouldn’t have been able to crack. I know why you want to leave - you think that when Boyd wakes up, he’ll remember the argument and somehow blame you for his current situation. If he doesn’t blame you, you’ll feel guilty anyway and you won’t want to be around him.”

“Would you like my job?” Grace asked, a little more sourly than she means to.

Frankie ignored the tone, and the question. “I don’t think Boyd will blame you, and you shouldn’t blame yourself. You didn’t give the drug to Boyd, and he didn’t ingest it willingly. Besides, you might be surprised when he wakes up.”

Grace frowned then. “What do you mean?”

Frankie hesitated, wondered whether she should tell Grace what she thought…no, what she was sure was true. “Boyd didn’t ask for Sarah; he just said a name that came into his head.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because when I was talking to him, I asked him if he knew Sarah. He said no.”

“You talked to him?” Grace asked, feeling slightly hurt.

“Yes, and if you spent any amount of time with him, you’d know you can talk to him now,” Frankie replied. No punches spared there. “Anyway, I asked if he knew Spence, Eve or Stella. He said no.”

Grace now looked curious. “Go on.”

“I asked about Felix and Mel. He said no, then he said he was sorry. He knew who Mel was, Grace, and he knew me.”

“And me?”

Frankie smiled. “I think you’re the only one Boyd *does* remember, Grace, and I’m not just saying that. I think you need to spend more time at the hospital with him. Next time Sarah wants a break and offers to leave so you can see him, take the chance.” The wandering scientist stood. “Now I’m going to go to the lab and talk with Eve. I’ll be back in a little while and I want to see those applications and that letter in shreds, understood?”

Grace looked suitably abashed. “Yes, Mum.”

Frankie grinned. “See you later, Grace.”

“Bye, Frankie.”

The door opened and shut again, and Grace could hear Spencer teasing his old friend mercilessly as she passed through the bullpen on her way to the lab. Grace wanted to believe what Frankie said, but something made her doubt the scientist was right.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

And that is how Grace finds herself back at the hospital, rubbing her cheek as if trying to remove Frankie’s words. She hasn’t gone into see Boyd yet. Not because of Sarah, because of the doctors. They’re running more tests, though Grace doesn’t see the point. Nothing short of a cure will change Boyd’s condition.

The young doctor who first spoke to her comes out of the room and smiles when he sees her. “Grace,” he greets the psychologist.

“Any change?”

The doctor shook his head. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised he’s still alive, or at least as coherent as he is.”

“What do you mean?” Grace asks, vaguely remembering that Eve said almost the same thing after she’d discovered three of the ingredients of the drug.

“The drug he was given is strong, and I would have expected it to work faster than this. Mr Boyd appears to be a very strong man.”

Grace smiles slightly. “Stubborn is more like it.”

The doctor nods. “That as well.” He hesitates. “I think you should go in. He’s been asking for you.”

“Really?” Grace asks, surprised.

The doctor nods again. “You seem to be very important to him; apparently your name crops up often.”

Grace is stunned beyond belief, so she just says, “Thank you, Doctor.” Doesn’t even notice when he replies and walks away. She just stares at the door to Boyd’s room, debating whether to go in or not.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

There’s a youngish woman approaching me, and I idly wonder how many more I’ve upset. I’m no Lothario, but the ladies seem to like me. And I seem to have a knack for upsetting them. Like the woman that’s in the room.

No, not the one approaching me. Pay attention, please. This will be a lot easier if you do.

There’s a woman approaching me, and there’s a woman in the room. One is real, and one is not. One is definitely upset with me and the other is…well, actually, she isn’t upset with me.

That’s odd.

Strange.

Weird.

Not normal.

You get the idea, yes?

Good.

I wonder why that woman isn’t upset with me. She should be…I think. I know I’ve probably done *something* to wrong her. As I said, I have a knack for it.

As difficult as it is, I force my attention back to the other woman, the one walking towards me. She’s got a round face, soft features, and dark hair that’s tied back.

*Crispy duck.*

She smiles slightly at me.

What a strange name, but if the shoe fits…. Crispy Duck it is.

Oh dear. Now both women are frowning at me. Maybe that one that’s walking isn’t called Crispy Duck. It is a stupid name, after all. Right, so, who do I know?

This new person isn’t Grace or Frankie or Mel or either of the girl cherubs.

Or Sarah. Almost forgot about her.

Jess?

No, isn’t that one.

Mary?

Nope, not that one either, though those two names are important to me as well.

Felix.

Like the cat.

The woman walking towards me smiled briefly, but the frown returns at the ‘cat’ comment. Something tells me seriousness is needed, which is bloody hard with this crap running about my system.

And believe me, it is running. It’s got trainers, shorts and a T-shirt on. Even a little sweat band. And at the rate it’s going, I think it’s trying to complete a marathon.

Not good. Felix looks like she’s going to slap me, and not in the I-love-you-really way that Frankie looked like she was going to slap me. Felix looks truly pissed off. I wonder what I did.

*Hi.*

Felix just glares at me. This is so many degrees of bad I’ve lost count.

*Stella* (who?) *lying. Spencer hiding things. Felix getting a face full of…what was that stuff? Acid?*

I grimace at the memory. At least I hope it’s a memory. I know that Spence got shot after that. I know he almost died.

*I seemed to be more worried about Spence…than you.*

Felix just stares at me, and then suddenly she nods slowly.

*I am so sorry. I have no excuse. I knew you’d live, but Spence…. It was too much like losing Mel again. But I should have paid you more attention. I can’t change it now; I can only apologise.*

Felix nods again and I think she’s about to smile. God, I hope so because so far, every woman who’s come to see me has had a gorgeous smile. Even Sarah…I suppose. Not a patch on Grace’s, though, of course.

*You wouldn’t have stayed, though, would you? Even if that hadn’t happened.*

Felix is now shaking her head. No smile in sight. Shit.

*Am I so difficult to work with? Do I push people away? That’s it, isn’t it. You left because of me, and you would have left because of me eventually anyway.*

Felix nods. I was hoping she’d disagree with me. I’m not that lucky.

*I’m a right bastard at times, aren’t I?*

There it is, what I’ve been aiming for; Felix smiles. I was right, it’s a gorgeous sight.

*I’m sorry. I try to be different, it just doesn’t work out.*

Felix nods in understanding and walks right up to me. I stretch my arm out and she takes hold of my hand. We shake, all forgiven. But I surprise her; I cover our hands with my other one.

*I wish you all the luck and happiness in the world.*

I know it sounds like something you get out of a fortune cookie, but I mean it. Felix seems to know that because she smiles again, leans forward, and gives my cheek the briefest of kisses.

I feel like a very rich man when I let go of Felix’s hand and watch her walk away. I don’t mean money rich; I mean…I’m not sure. Friends, forgiveness, kisses, all the good things in life - suddenly I feel rich, and my soul is soaring. It’s got nothing to do with the drugs, either, for a change.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Grace is given a wide berth in the office. She is exuding the ‘I’m pissed off, don’t come near me if you want to live’ vibe, and it’s well understand by the rest of the team. She went in to see Boyd after the doctors had finished with him. She had managed to convince herself that she was looking forward to seeing him, to talking to him again, and the bastard had the audacity to be sleeping! Grace was not pleased with him.

Since then, Grace hasn’t had the chance to go to the hospital because of a case that’s cropped up. It’s nothing serious, but Grace is needed. Seems like Frankie was right about that, at least. Sarah has told Grace not to worry, that if there’s any change in Boyd’s condition she’ll let the profiler know. It’s not that Grace doesn’t believe Sarah; it’s just that she wants to see Boyd for herself. She wants to see that her friend is alright; she wants to be able to look in his eyes again, hear his voice again, because Grace now admits to herself that she’s sorely missing him. She’s lost track of how long he’s been in hospital - it can’t be longer than a week, but it feels like years.

Grace sighs and shakes her head. This is bad. She knows it’s bad - she knows she’s got *it* bad. She needs help.

There’s a sudden commotion and Grace’s head snaps up. She sees that out in the bullpen, Stella and Spence’s heads did the same thing as hers, and the three of them look at each other, trying to pinpoint where the hell the noise is coming from. And it’s one hell of a ruckus at that.

“Is that coming from the lab?” Stella asks as Grace leaves her office.

“Sounds like it,” Spencer replies, frowning.

Together, the three of them head cautiously in the direction of the lab, wondering just what the hell is going on. Grace hopes it’s good news; she doesn’t think they could take any more bad. And she knows it isn’t to do with the case, as there was no forensics to go on really, so….

They stop outside the lab doors and just stare in astonishment at the sight inside. Eve and Frankie have hold of each other and they’re dancing around the room, yelling loudly and excitedly.

Spencer dons a white coat and bravely ventures inside. “Why weren’t we invited to the party?” he asks, then wishes he hadn’t.

Frankie squeals - which is very unlike Frankie, Grace notes distractedly - and disengages herself from Eve, launching herself at Spencer instead. Spencer grunts on collision and struggles to keep his balance.

“What is going on?” Stella asks.

“We’ve identified the fourth ingredient,” Eve replies, her grin barely contained.

“Oh my God! Really?” Stella says.

Eve’s grin bursts forth and she nods. “Really.”

Stella rushes forward to hug Eve and soon Spencer and Frankie join them. Grace stands there, shocked by what she’s just heard. They found it. They know what’s making Boyd so ill. They can cure him. He’s going to be alright….

“Oh my God.” Grace’s hand flies to her mouth and she feels her legs start to give way. She wants to be strong, but her strength seems to have fled.

Luckily, the kids have their eye on the ball and Grace feels two people catch her before she falls. They lead her to a chair and sit her down. Spencer puts his hand on her shoulder, while Eve and Stella stand closely, one at either side.

Frankie hunkers down in front of Grace and takes her hands. “Boyd’s going to be fine, Grace,” she says softly. “You should know by now you can’t get rid of him that easily.”

“And people have tried,” Spencer adds with a grin.

Grace can’t help herself; she starts crying. But the kids know that they’re happy tears. They’re the tears of relief, though Frankie also knows that panic will start to set in soon as well. Grace will worry what will happen when Boyd finally regains consciousness completely.

But there is no anxiety, no uneasiness, in Grace’s eyes, and Frankie is glad.

“What was the last ingredient?” the profiler asks when she’s finally back in control of herself.

“Mandrake,” Eve says, and shakes her head. “I should have recognised it straight away, but it was masked by the other ingredients. The new sample of blood I took from Boyd made it clearer.” She shakes her head again. “I’m glad he was restrained.”

“Why?” Stella asks.

“He tried to attack me,” Eve replies. “I don’t think he likes needles.”

Spencer smiles. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“So, the drug?” Stella says, reading the anxious expression on Grace’s face correctly.

Eve nods. “Mandrake….”

“Which is a problem because it’s poisonous,” Frankie continues. “All of it. That, combined with everything else….”

“…Is what’s making Boyd so ill,” Eve finishes.

Grace smiles. She knows Boyd would have loved to see the two scientists working together. She imagines he would have thought they’d get on well, and it seems like they do.

“So the doctors can cure him now, right?” Stella asks.

“Do they have to? It’s quiet without him about,” Spencer says, and then holds his hands up quickly in self-defence as the women turn to attack him. “I’m joking!”

Frankie nods. “The doctors should be able to flush the toxins out of Boyd’s system now they know exactly what they are.”

“Speaking of which, one of us had better get this to the hospital,” Eve says, waving a piece of paper around.

“I’ll do it,” Grace offers. No surprises there.

Frankie stands. “I won’t be here when you get back. They want me at work sooner than I expected.”

Grace nods in understand and hugs her friend. “Thank you, for everything,” she whispers.

“Any time, Grace. And don’t forget what I said.”

“I won’t. See you all later.”

As soon as Grace leaves, Frankie turns to the others and produces an envelope. “This is for Boyd,” she says. “I need one of you to look after it for me, and give it to him when he’s back on his feet. He doesn’t have to be out of hospital, he just has to be normal again. Well, normal for Boyd. And I don’t want anyone peeking at it.”

Eve held her hands up. “Don’t look at me. I don’t want the responsibility.”

“Me either,” Stella says quickly.

Spencer sighs and holds his hand out. “Give it here. I’ll put it somewhere safe.”

“Don’t lose it, Spence!” Frankie warns him.

“I won’t,” he promises before embracing her. “So when will we be seeing you again?”

“Soon, Spence,” Frankie replies, smiling.

“I hope so.”

Frankie turns to Stella and Eve and embraces them both briefly. “It was nice meeting you, and working with you. Take care of Grace, and Boyd. He’s a good guy, underneath it all.”

“We will do,” Stella promises.

Frankie nods. “Good. Thanks.” She smiles and walks out of the lab, not wanting to prolong the goodbyes. It only makes them harder. “Bye!” She waves as the doors closes and leaves the new team together. She enjoyed being back, but she knows she doesn’t belong in the cold case squad now. It’s her past and someone else’s future. That doesn’t mean Frankie won’t be back to haunt them when they least expect it, though. Or to put Boyd and Grace in their place if they continue to be stupid with each other.

After all, Frankie reasons to herself as she drives away, someone’s got to keep an eye on them. They obviously can’t look after themselves, can they? Each other, maybe, but not themselves.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Grace finds the young doctor with ease, and gives him the piece of paper that Eve entrusted her with. His eyes widen and Grace can see he’s impressed.

“Thank you for this,” he says. “I’ll start people working on an antidote straightaway. We’ll make sure Mr Boyd gets the right medicine.” The doctor smiles encouragingly and walks away, leaving Grace stood alone.

She walks slowly to Boyd’s room, desperate to see him, to be near him, even if it’s only for a short time. But when she reaches the room, Grace decides that fate is pissing her about.

Sarah’s there, which is no surprise really, but that’s not the point. Grace doesn’t want a lot; is a few moments alone with the man she loves too much to ask?

Luckily, Grace thinks, Sarah misreads the expression on her face. Grace assumes Sarah thinks the shock, as Grace realises what she feels for Boyd is indeed love, is because she’s there.

Sarah, however, knows exactly what the expression means, and it’s nothing to do with her being in the room. In a way, Sarah is amused. She thought she was bad, but she’s never met two people as stubborn as Grace and Boyd.

“Hey,” she says softly. “I was just going to get some coffee. Would you sit with him for a while?”

“Okay,” Grace replies, nodding.

“Actually, I could do with going back to the hotel and showering. You alright to stay for a few hours?”

Grace nods again. “Okay.”

Sarah smiles at the profiler’s monosyllable answers. “Thanks.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot the reason I was here,” Grace says as Sarah opens the door. “Eve and Frankie have identified the fourth ingredient in the drug. It’s mandrake. The doctors have the list of ingredients and are working on the right medication to give Boyd.”

Sarah sighs in relief. “Thank God for that. That’s great news, Grace.” She squeezes the profiler’s hand briefly. “Oh, before *I* forget, who or what is Crispy Duck?”

Grace can’t help it; a short laugh escapes from her mouth. “‘Crispy Duck’ was the name Boyd gave to a body we found over a year ago. It was the first case we worked on with Felix as the scientist, after Mel….” She can’t finish that sentence, but she doesn’t need to. Sarah knows all about Mel.

“I wonder if that’s who Boyd was talking to,” Sarah murmurs. “Felix.” She has to clarify; Grace is staring at her strangely.

“Ah,” the profiler replies, then nods slightly. “Okay.”

Sarah smiles. “I’ll be back later.”

Grace nods once more. “Okay.”

It isn’t until Sarah has gone that Grace realises how stupid she must have sounded, just repeating ‘okay’ like a mantra. But she doesn’t care. She’s alone with Boyd and that’s the main thing.

Grace moves the chair closer to the bed and takes Boyd’s hand. She lets her thumb glide over his knuckles, her fingers caress his palm. She surprised how soft his skin is, and her mind starts to wander to places it really shouldn’t do.

“Oh, Boyd, what *am* I going to do with you?” she asks affectionately. “Good news. Eve and Frankie figured out what you were given, so hopefully you’ll be on the mend soon. Although Spence thinks it’s quieter without you.” Grace smiles slightly before becoming serious again. “Boyd, I - I want to apologise. That argument we had - I had no right to say those things to you, but you had no right to yell at me either. Why do you always have to push me away, Boyd?” She sighs in exasperation.

There’s so much Grace wants to say, and she knows that this might be the best time to say them. She isn’t sure whether Boyd can hear her or not, but there’s a part of her that thinks he might be able to, and in a way, she doesn’t want him to. She doesn’t want him to know what she thinks of him, or feels for him, because she knows he doesn’t feel the same way. Grace doesn’t believe what Frankie said, that Boyd just said the first name that came into his head, that he doesn’t know who Sarah is. Grace just *can’t* believe it.

In truth, she’s scared. Scared that it might actually be true.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Spencer sits at his desk, the envelope Frankie gave him in his hands. He’s staring at it, deep in thought, and doesn’t hear Eve enter the room. Stella’s gone to get lunch from…somewhere. Probably the local deli down the road because she’s been gone a long time.

“Spence? You okay?” Eve asks, sitting down near him.

“Boyd spoke to me when I was there the other day,” Spencer replies, not taking his eyes off the envelope. “He wanted to know where Grace was, and he knew who I was. He then said something about an argument, but when I asked him about it, he zoned out, like the drug was taking over again and he was hallucinating.”

“What are you thinking?”

“That Frankie knows what happened.” Spencer finally looks at Eve. “I think Boyd and Grace argued.”

Eve’s eyes widen. “That’s a bit of a leap, isn’t it?”

Spencer smiles. “Not really. We know that Boyd went straight from here to the pub, and then he came back here. Grace was the last person to see him, and she found him.” He puts the envelope on the desk and leans over it. “I think they argued about something….”

“Could be anything with those two,” Eve says dryly.

“…And Boyd left. Went to the pub, had a couple of drinks, and then came back here for a reason. To work, to talk to Grace, who knows? I think Grace came back later to talk to Boyd, maybe apologise.”

“Instead she finds him unconscious and unresponsive,” Eve finishes. “There’s only one way to confirm all of that.”

Spencer nods. “I know, talk to Grace.”

“What about Grace?” Stella asks, entering the bullpen with two bags of delicious smelling food. “There was a queue.”

Eve smiles. “We guessed.”

Spencer quickly recaps his thoughts, but Stella is no help. “I’m not doing it. You should, Spence,” the young DC tells him. “You’re closer to Grace.”

“I have to say I agree,” Eve says.

Spencer smiles, though it’s somewhat sarcastic. “Thanks.”

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Grace leaves the hospital before Sarah returns. She just doesn’t want to see her. The profiler talked to Boyd about the case they were trying to solve and she explained more about the drug he’d been given. She wished he’d woken up, though she wasn’t sure if he was sleeping again or if he was unconscious because of the drug. But Boyd’s eyes remained closed and his breathing was steady the whole time.

The one thing Grace was glad of was that his chest had been covered up. It was very distracting for her.

The profiler enters the bullpen and is surprised to see it’s empty. She’s even more surprised to see Spencer sat in her office, obviously waiting for her.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, sitting down behind her desk. Grace can guess why he’s there; she *is* a psychologist after all.

“Not as such.” Spencer looks at her and gently tells her what he thinks happened. “I don’t want to know what you argued about, and I know you didn’t give Boyd the drug,” he tells her, “but am I right about everything else?”

Grace sighs, defeated, and nods. “We argued. He told me that I shouldn’t threaten to leave, I should just do it and not come back. I told him that maybe he should leave as we’d all be happier.” She sighs again. “And he did, he left. I waited for a while, then went home. But I couldn’t settle, and I couldn’t sleep. I knew Boyd would come back to the office eventually, either to drown his sorrows or to clear his stuff away, so I came back as well to try and catch him.”

“And that’s when you found him?” Spencer asks softly, and Grace nods. Spencer reaches across the desk and takes one of Grace’s hands in his. “Okay, thanks for telling me.” He squeezes her hand before letting go and standing. “You don’t always have to *say* you’re sorry, you know. Actions speak louder than words, and I think words between you and Boyd are dangerous.”

“What are you saying, Spence?” Grace asks, shaking her head slightly.

Spencer smiles. “You’re the psychologist, Grace. Work it out. See you tomorrow.”  
   
TBC


	15. Chapter 15

When I wake up, I know there’s something different about the room, apart from the fact I’m alone. There’s a smell that I recognise; it’s comforting, familiar.

Grace.

I smile, but then I feel sad. Grace was here and I was asleep.

But I remember her talking to me. I thought I’d dreamt it, but now I realise her words must have manifested themselves as dreams instead. It’s better than hallucinations, though.

Wait…hallucinations…lucid thoughts….

Holy fuck a duck. No, not Crispy Duck. That would be disgusting. Honestly.

Nope, this is holy fuck a duck because they bloody well did it. The scientists did it. It’s one of those times I would have loved to say ‘I told you so’. I *knew* Frankie and Eve would get on great.

I stop. Well, I can’t exactly move very far, but you know what I mean.

Eve.

Black nail-polish-wearing, spliff-smoking cherub. Eve is her name.

Fuck a duck part deux, I remembered!

Deux? I’m not a bloody frog! Sorry, French person. Stella is, though. Maybe I got it from her.

The other cherub, talking in a funny language. It was French.

She was Stella.

Oh my God, I’m remembering.

For a moment I start to panic as the clear memories all want to come back at once, but then I force myself to calm down. I’m alright, I’m safe. I let my policeman’s instinct take over, and I analyse the situation.

I know I’m in hospital.

I know I’ve been given some medicine to make me better.

I know I was given a drug to make me ill, quite possibly it was intended to kill me.

I know all of that because Grace told me.

And I’m in this position because I went to the pub, because I argued with Grace. She didn’t have to tell me that; I worked it out on my lonesome. I know, I’m a smart arse; I can’t help it.

*“You don’t know me,” Boyd said flatly, though he knew nothing could be further from the truth. He knew he was just hitting out at Grace, but he didn’t know why.*

I laugh. I can’t help it. I do know why I was lashing out at Grace - I knew then and I still know now - but I didn’t want to admit it before. Now I will. I was lashing out at Grace because she was there. I lash out at Grace because she’s the only one who has ever stayed, the only one who’s always there.

Yeah, I know that doesn’t make much sense, but it’s a defence mechanism. The closer people get, the further I try to push them away. But Grace seems unpushable. I know that’s not a word, but I don’t care.

I did push her too far once, and for a horrible time, I remember I thought I’d lost her. I was so happy when she came back, though I tried not to show it too much.

I wonder how long this lucid moment will last. I wouldn’t say it’s enjoyable, exactly, but at least I know what the hell is happening. My room is silent, apart from beeping hospital machines, and although I’ve been surrounded by silence for quite some time now, this silence is different. It’s *real*, just like these thoughts I’m having. I understand that the hallucinations will come back eventually, but hopefully they will occur less and less as the antidote that the doctors have concocted starts to work its magic.

*“You’re not showing an interest - you’re being nosey!” Boyd retorted heatedly. He wanted to push Grace away because he knew - he knew - that if she stayed, if she got any closer, he couldn’t be able to resist, to help himself. He would crack and break down, and he would talk and cry. He never wanted anyone to see him so vulnerable, especially not Grace.*

I cringe. I was so stupid that night. Why do Grace and I bring out the worst in each other?

*She loves you, and I think you love her. There’s no shame in admitting it, Peter, and don’t worry about hurting me. I’m a big girl, I can handle it. So long as you’re happy.*  
I  
close my eyes, screw them tightly shut. That was Sarah talking, and I can’t believe she said that. It’s not what she said, it’s the fact that she saw what no one else has.

She was right, and that’s the reason I push Grace away. I *don’t* want her to see me vulnerable, but I also don’t want to hurt her. I know that every time I push her away, I hurt her, but….

Damn.

Alright, alright, I push Grace away because I’m scared. I’m scared of letting her all the way in. Of caring too much about her. Of letting myself love her. Of being happy. Of disappointing her. I’m scared. There, I admit it.

Now I’ve just got to say that to Grace. That should be fun.

*Why do you always have to push me away, Boyd?*

When I’m better, I want Grace to ask me that question again. I’d give her answer this time.

*Do something completely out of character and open up to her. Maybe even hug her. She needs you, though she’d never tell anyone.*

Dammit, Frankie might have been right. I’m starting to remember it all. Frankie talking to me, Sarah talking to me, Grace talking to me. Now I just need to starting talking myself. I need to sit up, to eat by myself and to walk about. I’ve got a lot to do, a lot of things to put right, or at least try to. It’s not going to be easy, but it needs to be done.

You know, if the kids ever find out who did this to me, I’d be tempted to thank the bastard. They’ve really helped to put things in perspective for me.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Grace is pacing. She isn’t one prone to pacing - she’s much too calm and collected for that - but her legs are ignoring her head. Her legs want to march a trench in her office and they’re doing just that, without her permission. She wants to scream at them to stop, but surprisingly, it’s helping her think. It’s making her brain focus on Spence’s words, which even though were uttered almost a week ago, are still weighing heavily on her mind.

*“You don’t always have to say you’re sorry, you know. Actions speak louder than words, and I think words between you and Boyd are dangerous.”*

Grace knows words are dangerous, but how else is she supposed to communicate with Boyd? Smack him upside the head ‘til he listens? Tempting, but she doubts it’s an effective way of conversing. Snog him senseless? Grace laughs. Tempting as well, but Boyd might well get the wrong impression from that.

She briefly considers using smoke signals, but she doubts the commissioner would enjoy having the building burnt down.

She shakes her head. Psychologist she might be, but Grace can’t for the life of her figure out what she’s supposed to do. Her pacing is halted by the phone ringing. Grace looks out in the bullpen, wondering if it’s one of the kids, but both Stella and Spencer have their heads down, working hard on finding the bastard that did this to Boyd. Could be Eve, Grace reasons.

“Hi,” she fainlly answers the ringing phone.

*“Hi, Grace. It’s Sarah.”*

Grace, already having stopped moving, freezes even more. *‘Speak, you stupid woman,’* she silently chastises herself. “Hi,” she repeats. *‘Wonderful reply.’*“How are you?”

*“I’m fine, thanks. Listen, I was wondering if you’d come and sit with Boyd for a while. I need to shower and I wouldn’t mind going out for lunch. This room’s driving me crazy.”*

“I can imagine,” Grace replies with a forced laugh. “What time do you want me there?”

*“As soon as you can.”*

Grace looks at the clock. “I’ll be about half an hour.”

The smile in Sarah’s voice is obvious. *“Thanks, Grace. I might not be here when you arrive.”*

“Okay.”

*“Thanks again. Bye.”* Sarah ends the call, slips her mobile back into her handbag and looks down at Boyd, who’s currently sleeping. Seems like he does that a lot. *“Grace will be here soon.”* He smiled. *“And I won’t be back until much later.”* His smile grows. *“If you were awake, I’d be pretty pissed with you right now.”* He scowls a little. Sarah shakes her head. *“Bye, Boyd.”*

She walks out of the room, hoping that he really was asleep and not pretending. But the doctors said it would be like that. With the antidote in his system now chasing off the drug, Boyd would sleep a lot as his body recovered. Sarah’s glad, in a way. Gives her the chance to talk to him, try to talk some sense into him, though she knows there’s a bloody good chance she’ll have to repeat everything when he wakes up, or at least reiterate that he wasn’t dreaming.

Sarah shakes her head again, remembering the conversation she had with her best friend the other day. Joanna wanted to know why Sarah was still in England when it was clear to all and sundry that Boyd didn’t love her. Sarah had replied that although Boyd didn’t love her, she still cared about him and she wanted to make sure he was happy before she left. Joanna had calmly told her friend that she was stupid or insane or both. She told Sarah that she’d only end up getting hurt. Sarah had laughed somewhat bitterly and said, ‘too late for that’. She managed to explain to Joanna that she was doing what needed to be done; she was doing the right thing. Joanna just agreed like she didn’t believe a word of it and promised to have several hot dates with firemen, policemen, and any other men in uniform she could find, lined up for when Sarah got back. Sarah thanked her sincerely for her concern.

Now, as she enters her hotel, Sarah knows Joanna is right. Once Boyd and Grace have admitted their feelings for each other, the rest of the world will cease to exist. But really, Sarah’s okay with that. She knows it’s what has to be; it’s the natural order of things. If she and Boyd are truly meant to be, she knows they’ll find their way back to each other eventually. But Sarah doubts that will happen. A part of her will keep hoping, though.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

As soon as she puts her phone down, Grace resumes pacing. Why? That’s a very good question, and the answer soon becomes apparent….

“Spence!!”

Stella looked up at her friend and colleague. “That did not sound good.”

“It has to be good - I haven’t done anything!” Spencer protests.

“Spence!!” Grace yells again.

“You should go,” Stella suggests.

Spencer nods. “Yeah.” He gets up and heads to Grace’s office. “What’s up?”

“I need you to go to the hospital.”

“What, now? I’m in the middle of paperwork. Can‘t you go?”

Grace glares at him, a glare that would have had Boyd strutting about in pride. “I don’t want to bloody well go, and it’s your fault!”

Spencer stares backed, every-so-slightly confused. “How is it my fault?”

“You and your ‘words are dangerous’.”

Spencer now blinks. “So?”

“So I can’t speak to Boyd right now without hurting him, whether he’s unconscious or not!” Grace grabs her coat and bag, intent on leaving the office sharp-ish. “Ergo, Spence, *you* have to go to the hospital because *Sarah* wants to leave for a while.” Another glare has him looking suitable apologetic. “So go, Spence.” And with that, Grace makes her exit.

Spencer walks into the bullpen shaking his head. “That’s it, I’m just going to stop speaking.”

Stella looks up. “Thank the Lord.” She looks at Spencer, who’s leaving too, and grins. “What did we do to deserve such a wonderful treat? And how will you communicate?”

Spencer gives her the two-fingered salute as he marches out, and Stella isn’t sure if that’s a reply to question one or two.  
 

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

Thank fuck for that. Sarah’s gone. It’s not that I don’t like her, it’s just that I like Grace more. I’m not exactly sure what I was thinking when I took up with her. Alright, I do. I was thinking it was easy, and it was safe. Because as much as I liked her at the time, she couldn’t hurt me like Grace could. And she liked me back. I never thought Grace did. Now I do. Got that? Good.

Sarah promised Grace would be here soon, that I heard. I wasn’t awake as such. I seem to spend a lot of time in limbo at the moment, as the antidote kicks the drug’s arse out of my system. I look like I’m asleep, and I feel like I am, but I hear everything that’s going on. And despite the fact my eyes were closed, I could tell with Sarah’s tone of voice that she’s hoping. There’s a small fraction of her that’s hoping I’ll go back to her one day. I doubt it very much.

I wake up and the room’s empty. I’m still having hallucinations, but at least now I know when I’m having them. The doctors tell me things are looking good. Maybe another week and I could be out of here, but I’m not allowed back to work for a while longer. Got to regain my strength or some crap like that. And I can go home if someone’ll keep an eye on me. Surprisingly, they’re queuing out the door to help me. I think I scared them.

Speaking of the door, it opens and I hold my breath, unbelievably excited at actually being able to see Grace, and for her to see me getting better.

A person walks in, but it isn’t Grace.

It’s too tall.

It’s too black (don’t start!).

It’s too…male.

If this is another bloody hallucination, it isn’t funny.

I must be frowning or glaring, or both, because Spence looks awkward and shrugs, but says nothing.

“Grace?” I ask.

“No, it’s Spence.” He suddenly looks sheepish. “Sorry, not the answer you were looking for.”

“No.”

“Grace is…busy, with the case. She wanted to come, but….”

“Liar.” Okay, so using single words isn’t my preferred method of communicating, but it’s all I can manage, consciously, right now.

Spence looks affronted, but he shouldn’t. It’s the truth. He never has been good at lying over things that are personal.

“What’d’you do?” I ask. It comes out garbled, but I think he gets the idea because he looks even more indignant. Didn’t think it was possible.

“Nothing!”

Too quick in responding, too defensive, and while my senses might be as sharp as a rubber ball at the moment, I’m not stupid. He’s lying and we both know it, but I’m not going to get the truth out of him. I can tell by his expression; he’s practicing self-preservation, so whatever’s he’s done is bad, quite possibly the kind of bad where I’ll want to kill him as much as Grace does.

“I’m going to get some coffee. You want anything?” Spence asks suddenly. Must be a record. Less than five minutes in my company and he’s already desperate to leave.

“Out…here,” I manage to croak.

Spence smiles grimly. “Soon, buddy.”

I hate it when he calls me that. He probably thinks - or hopes - I won’t remember.

He turns and a strange noise starts emanating from one of his pockets.

“Big…trouble,” I tell Spence as he takes his ringing mobile out.

“From who? No one’s around,” he replies.

“Me.”

“Grass.” He puts the phone to his ear. “DI Jordan…. Yeah…. What?! Where? How?… Okay, that’s great news, Stella!… Yeah, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Bye.” Spence looks down at me, his excitement barely contained. “We got the guy that did this to you, Boyd.”

“Say…thanks…for me.”

“Will do. Stella deserves all the praise.”

“Not just…team. Guy…resp….” I can’t finish such a long word, but Spence knows what I’m trying to say.

“You want to thank the guy responsible? Why?”

“Persp…ct…ve,” I mutter.

“Perspective?” Spence repeats, and then shakes his head. “I don’t think I want to know. Look, I’ve got to go. You be okay on your own?”

“Grace.” That’s the firmest I’ve heard my voice for a long time.

Spence sighs. “I’ll try, okay? But I’m not in her good books right now. Told her words between the two of you are dangerous.”

“True,” I agree. “You know?”

He nods. “I know what happened, Grace told me. She blames herself.”

“Shouldn’t.”

“I know that, but she does.” Spence looks at me. “You two need to get things sorted, you know that, don’t you?”

I nod. “Tired now.”

“Never realised my company was so boring,” he quips. “I promise, Boyd, that Grace *will* be here when you wake up again, even if I’ve got to drag her myself.”

I nod again and manage a weak smile. His promise I believe. I close my eyes and am asleep almost instantly, my dreams and hallucinations all filled with blonde hair and blue eyes, and a smile that’s brighter than the sun.

Look, they’re my dreams and my hallucinations so they can be as clichéd as I want. Bugger off. Go and do something useful, like finding Grace for me. I don’t like the fact that she’s just gone.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Sometime later, I wake up alone. Spence has gone, hopefully to batter the little shit who did this to me, along with Stella’s help. As long as they leave a piece for Grace, I don’t mind.

The door opens and I look at it with hope and expectation. When I see who enters, I knew I was expecting too much.

“Sorry, I know I’m not who you were hoping to see, but I thought you’d want to hear the news,” Spence says quickly.

“Grace?” I have a one word vocabulary at the moment; sue me if you don’t like it.

He looks pained. “I’m sorry, boss, I don’t know where she is. Stella’s trying to track her down now with Eve’s help. We’ll find her. I promise.”

“B’lieve you,” I mutter.

Spence smiles. “Thanks. Mind if I sit down?”

“No.”

As he sits, I take a closer look at his expression. Spence looks like he’s torn between being very pissed off and laughing his arse off. This should be good.

“Okay, the guy who did this to you works at the pub you drank at,” he starts. “Stella happened to be there when there was an ‘incident’.”

The way he says ‘incident’ makes me raise my eyebrows - not very far at the moment, but they need to exercise so I try to push them up harder. “Kind?” I ask.

“One of the guys at the bar saw the barman slipping something into someone’s drink,” Spence explains. “Turns out that the barman, a kid named Antony Belrose, has a major grudge against his uncle, who…well, who looks like you.”

I try to glare. It works beautifully. “What?” Yes!! My deadpan, flat-as-a-new-model’s-arse voice is back! Who’s the man? That’s right, I am!

Crap, the drug is *still* lingering. Ah well, psychotic episodes like that don’t happen too often. Thankfully.

I catch the smile that Spence thinks he’s hiding, but I don’t pull him up on it. Truth be told, I’ll probably see the amusing side of all this…eventually. Like when I’m dead.

Spence nods. “Yeah, the thing with his uncle is nothing serious. Antony’s just a typical teenager with too many hormones going round his body. He got the drug off a mate, whose name he’s kindly given us. We’ll pick him up as soon as we’ve found Grace.”

I nod as well. “Good.”

“I don’t think Antony will get a stiff sentence, though,” Spence continued. “Especially because he was horrified at the effects the drug had when we told him. He thought it would just make his uncle sick for a few days, not practically kill him. That’s what his mate told him, anyway.”

“Prat.”

“I agree.”

There’s a long silence, and it’s uncomfortable. “Grace?” I say eventually.

Spence sighs. “You’re like a dog with a bone, boss.” He rises. “I’m going, I’m going, and I won’t come back without her this time.”

“Don’t,” I tell him as he leaves.  
   
 Chapter 17  
   
Spence is stressed. Sure, Boyd is on the mend, and the kid that caused him hell is in custody. Antony Belrose will probably get a hefty slap on the wrist and some community service, but Spence can’t see it going any further than that. To be honest, he’s not bothered. What’s more important is catching the drug dealer that gave Antony that shit in the first place.

Spence is stressed because Sarah’s been on the phone, and that’s never a pleasant experience in his books. And he’s stressed because they can’t find Grace. At all. She’s turned into the female Houdini, or Lord Lucan, whichever you prefer. She’s gone and it’s winding Spence up something chronic. Stella’s tried to trace Grace’s mobile phone signal, but it’s off. Eve has visited her house, Boyd’s house, Frankie’s workplace - basically anywhere that isn’t the office. She wanted to get out of the lab for a while and Spence was more than happy to let her.

Grace, on the other hand, has no idea the amount of panic she’s created. When she left the office the way she did, she wasn’t sure where she was going. She just got in her car and drove. It’s only when she saw the hospital signs that she realises her unconscious was taking her to Boyd. To say she isn’t impressed would be an understatement. Instead, Grace decides to take charge and drives in the opposite direction.

Ending up at a lab isn’t really much better, especially when it happens to be the lab that Dr. Gibson now works in. Grace thinks her subconscious is trying to tell her something, but she’s doing her best to ignore it.

Felix sees Grace almost immediately. The scientist always did have a soft spot for the profiler.

“What’s happened?” is Felix’s way of greeting Grace. The look on her face, and the aura she’s giving off, leaves nobody within a twenty mile radius doubting that something is wrong.

“It’s Boyd.”

Felix’s expression remains neutral. The DSI is not one of her favourite people. “Is it serious?”

“He almost died.”

Felix nods. “Come on, let’s grab a coffee from somewhere.”

Over coffee, Grace explains everything, even down to Felix appearing to Boyd in a hallucination. The scientist gives a brief smile over the ‘crispy duck’ comment. It reminds her that Boyd wasn’t all that bad.

“I’m only here really to warn you,” Grace says after a while.

Felix looks surprised. “Warn me?”

Grace nods. “Boyd might come looking for you once he’s back on his feet. To get things sorted. He does that sometimes.”

“Well, you know where he can find me.”

Grace knows that’s the truce Boyd will be looking for. She worked out that the people he was seeing were the ones he had…issues with. People he should make apologies to, and she hoped he bloody well will when he wakes up otherwise she’d be in big trouble, which she would then take out on him. Spence’s ‘words are dangerous’ comment would mean squat once Grace had finished with Boyd.

“Thanks, Felix.” The profiler looks at her watch. “I should let you get back to work.”

Felix nods. “Okay.” She hesitates. “Say hi to Boyd for me. You’ll see him before I will.”

Grace smiles. “I will. Bye, Felix.”

“Bye, Grace.” As the profiler walks away, Felix shakes her head. Frankie was right. Grace loves Boyd more than she would admit, and it needs sorting. Taking her mobile out, the scientist phones Eve to let her know that Grace was okay. Unfortunately she couldn’t tell her where the profiler was going, but at least the squad knew Grace hadn’t done something stupid.

As Felix ends the call, she smiles. She wonders if Grace, or Boyd - or Spence, for that matter - know about the scientists’ circle. Mine of information for everything, especially if it wasn’t legal, despite the hell they’d all given Boyd over breaking the rules. And any scientist who had been in the cold case squad, or where about to join it, were particularly close. It helps to share information about who you were working with; you never know when the need to blackmail your colleagues might arise.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Eve’s driving back to HQ when she gets Felix’s call. She thanks her, and wonders how the hell she can tell the others the information without revealing her source. In the end, she decides to keep it to herself. Grace is safe, that’s all that matters.

When she finally gets back to the office - she was driving around in circles as she was thinking - Eve finds Spence pacing and doing a fair imitation of Boyd. It’s quite scary actually.

“Did you find her?” he asks, his tone snappish.

Eve looks at him. “Do you see Grace with me?”

Spence glares, Eve ignores him. “Where haven’t we looked?” Stella asks, trying to diffuse some of the tension. It doesn’t work.

“If we knew that, we’d be looking there!” Spence yells.

Stella looks affronted. “We’re just as worried as you are, but shouting isn’t going to help.”

“What about the graveyard?” Eve asks suddenly.

Spence looks at her. “What?”

“The graveyard.” The scientist suddenly looks awkward. “Where your friend is buried,” she says in a quiet voice.

“Mel,” Spence replies, his tone and expression soft. Then he smiles. “Good thinking. I’ll check it out.”

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Grace never got the whole ‘talking to the dead’ thing, at least until they lost Mel. Now she finds herself here often, even if it is only to tidy the grave up or bring fresh flowers. But today she’s explaining Boyd’s predicament. She’s so engrossed in unburdening herself that she doesn’t hear Spence approaching. She doesn’t know how long he’s been stood there, either, when she finally turns to leave and finds him hovering. Not literally, obviously.

“I’m sorry, Spence,” Grace says softly.

He shrugs and smiles. “It’s okay.”

They embrace, a little awkwardly at first, but soon Grace is grasping handfuls of his coat and he’s rubbing her back.

“Grace, please listen to me. I still meant what I said before; words between you and Boyd are dangerous,” Spence starts. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to him at all. I’ve seen him twice today, and both times the only word out of his mouth if your name.”

Grace looks up, surprised. “Really?”

Spence nods. “Pretty much. He needs to see you, and I think you need to see him. Will you please go to hospital?”

Grace sighs and pulls away from Spence, but links arms with him to retain some contact. “Tomorrow. I’ll go tomorrow. I’m tired now, and besides, Sarah’s probably there.”

There’s something in the way the profiler says Sarah’s name that makes Spence want to laugh a little, but he isn’t brave enough. It just confirms what everyone else - by that he means the other women, past and present, of the unit - have been saying for a while. Grace has a thing for Boyd, and vice versa, though Grace is more obvious about it.

“She’s been on the phone to me,” Spence says as they walk back to the car.

“Really? What did she want?” Grace’s tone is mildly inquisitive, but the DI can hear the aggressive protectiveness underneath.

“To know why you hadn’t been to see Boyd. I think he grassed on you.”

Grace groans before muttering, “Bastard.”

Spence thinks, with a smile, that when the profiler visits his boss tomorrow, it’ll just be like normal. She’ll yell and he won’t listen, and as the DI drives them away, he realises that’s just how things should be. Because Boyd really does listen, and Grace isn’t really yelling. It’s a game they play, a dangerous one, but a game all the same, and one Spence is only just starting to understand; it’s Boyd and Grace’s way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

I wake up to find Sarah there again. I’m about to open my mouth and ask for Grace, but one look at Sarah’s face tells me that’s not a good idea.

“Good, you’re awake at last,” she says. Her expression is thoughtful, pensive, and I know something serious is about to come out of that mouth of hers. “We need to talk.”

I was right.

*Uh oh.*

She raises both eyebrows. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

My eyes widen slightly. She wasn’t *supposed* to hear that! Damn it!

“Sorry,” I mutter somewhat contritely.

“Hmm.” She doesn’t look impressed. I don’t really care. “Right, Boyd, we have to talk,” Sarah repeats. “I don’t know if you remember anything from when you were unconscious, so I’m going to reiterate a few things.”

This sounds like it could be very painful.

“From the first time I saw you and Grace together at work, I knew there was something between you. I’m sure you’re the only two that didn’t see it or didn’t want to admit it,” Sarah says, shaking her head.

“Both,” I mutter.

“Yeah, well imagine my surprise when you wanted to take up with me,” Sarah continues. “I think you were oblivious to what was going on, but I wasn’t. Grace was upset but she hid it well. You hurt her, Boyd, and you didn’t even realise it.”

“Didn’t do…purpose.”

Sarah smiles. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. And you didn’t hurt me on purpose either, did you? At least I hope you didn’t.”

“Course not,” I say as indignantly as I can manage.

“You see, I know that. Which is why I’m going to walk away. You deserve to be happy, Boyd, and so does Grace.”

Is Sarah saying what I think she is?

“This probably isn’t a good time, but I’m breaking up with you.”

That should hurt. It doesn’t, and Sarah knows it.

“I still hope that one day, you’ll come back to me,” she continues quietly. “I know it’ll probably never happen, but let me dream.”

“I won’t…take that…away…from you,” I tell her. That’s the longest sentence I’ve managed for a while, so I hope she appreciates it.

“Good. Now listen very carefully.” Sarah sighs and sits forward. “Grace loves you, and you love Grace. It’s more obvious now than ever before. There’s no shame in admitting it, Peter, and don’t worry about hurting me. I’m a big girl, I can handle it. So long as you’re happy.”

“I think…I hope…we will be,” I reply. “But I…want you…to be as…happy as…you can be…as well. Find someone…who can…give…you what…I couldn’t.”

Sarah smiles as the tears well up in her eyes. “Wow, Boyd, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. Maybe we should drug you up more often.”

I glare, she ignores me. I am *not* sweet, or cute, or any other word that means practically the same.

“Don’t hurt Grace, Boyd,” Sarah says suddenly. “Don’t decide to turn over a new leaf because of what’s happened, only to fall back into your old habits after a week, or even a month. Do things the right way with her.”

I nod and fix Sarah with a sincere gaze. “I will.”

She wipes the tears from her face and leans forward to kiss my cheek. Her lips linger a little longer than they should have, but I can’t complain. Sarah’s doing me a huge favour and I can never repay it. She pulls away, stands and leaves without another word or a backward glace, and as the door closes, it dawns on me that she won’t be coming back at all and that I’ll never see her again. My cheek feels damp and cold, and if I wanted to, I could wipe her tears from my face, but I don’t move. For now, it’s a stark reminder of what’s happened, and as I lie alone with my clear thoughts, I debate never washing that patch of skin ever again, only so I’ll never forget.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Grace takes more time than normal getting ready this morning. No, she isn’t trying to avoid going to see Boyd; quite the opposite, in fact. She wants to look her best for him, although deep down, she hopes that she could go wearing a bin bag and he’d still love her. Everyone else thinks that’s possible, but Grace still needs some convincing. She needs a sign from him.

Besides, Grace can’t escape. She knows Spence has been sat outside her house since she woke up at seven thirty this morning, and he’s waiting to drive her to the hospital. After her outburst the day before, Grace is feeling a little ashamed, but she’s also allowing herself a little excitement at finally seeing Boyd awake as well.

At nine, she goes outside with breakfast for Spence. Words aren’t necessary between them right now, and at ten o’clock, Spence knocks on the front door to return his plate and cup, and to collect Grace.

They listen to the radio on the way to the hospital, and the only time they speak is when Spence pulls into the car park.

“I can manage from here,” Grace tells him.

“You sure?”

“I’m not going to do a bunk from here, Spence,” she replies, laughing.

“I know, I just thought you might need a shoulder. You know, in case Boyd speaks without thinking, or Sarah’s there….” Spence trails off, suddenly embarrassed.

Grace lays a hand on his arm and smiles. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.” She leans over and gives him a brief kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she repeats.

Spence grins. “I like that better than being yelled at.”

“Don’t get used to it. I don’t want Boyd to get jealous.”

“Me neither,” Spence replies, shaking his head. As Grace is getting out the car, he says, “I’ll be back to pick you up at the end of the day, but if you want a lift before then, just give me a call.”

“I will, Spence.” Grace waves and walks into the hospital, a spring in her step.

Just as the profiler rounds the corner into the corridor leading to Boyd’s room, she bumps into Sarah. Literally.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” Grace says, but soon shuts up when she sees the expression on the other woman’s face. “Are you alright? What’s happened?”

Sarah smiles. “Yeah, I must look a right mess.”

Grace smiles back. “Well, you would look better without mascara running down your face. What’s happened?”

“Don’t worry, Boyd’s fine. In fact, he’s awake and talking coherently right now.”

“That’s wonderful news. But why are you crying?” Grace asks. While she might not care for Sarah as such, she doesn’t like seeing another person upset.

Sarah looks awkward for a moment before pointing to two chairs that just happen to be in the corridor. Grace has noticed that there seem to be a number of chairs placed casually around the hospital, with no rhyme or reason to their positions.

“Grace, I’m going to be straight with you,” Sarah starts. “Once I start talking, let me finish or I’ll just clam up.”

“Okay.” The profiler is trying not to panic, but she’s a little nervous about what ever the hell is about to happen.

“I’ve broken up with Boyd. I can’t do this, him being here, me being in America. It’s just too hard. And I know he’ll never move, and neither will I, so this is for the best.” Sarah sighs and stares at the wall. “It’s not just that. Boyd doesn’t love me, and I don’t think he ever really did.”

Grace fidgets slightly. She really doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t *need* to hear this…does she?

“This…incident with Boyd has made us all re-evaluate a lot - our lives, our feelings, our relationships - but no one more so than Peter. I know you love him, Grace. I’ve known from the first time I saw you two together. I don’t think Boyd realised it, or he just didn’t want to admit it, but now he knows it as well.” Sarah sighs. “I want you to go into that room, Grace, and kiss him senseless.” She smiles. “It won’t take a lot, I imagine.”

The profiler nods. “No. Not a lot of sense there,” she replies in a mild tone.

“Exactly. I want you to take care of him, and no matter how hard it gets, don’t give up on him,” Sarah continues. “He is worth saving, and I think now he believes that as well.” She stands suddenly. “You don’t have to worry about me; I won’t be back at all. In fact, I can’t wait to get home.”

Grace stands as well, her face creasing into a curious expression. “Really?”

Sarah nods. “Oh, absolutely. My best friend is lining up numerous dates with men in uniform for me as we speak.”

Grace smiles. “Thank you.”

“Look after him,” Sarah says softly.

“I will.”

Sarah just nods, not trusting herself to speak, and walks away. She walks until she reaches her hotel, and as she packs, she shouts down the phone at some poor airline operator, demanding a seat on the next flight back to New York. Sarah keeps it together until London is nothing but a mass of small lights beneath the aeroplane, and finally England is fading into the distance. Only when she is safely away from it all does Sarah allow the tears to fall.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Grace takes a deep breath before she opens the door to Boyd’s room. The conversation with Sarah unnerved her a little; she expected the American to fight tooth and nail - quite literally - for Boyd. She never expected her to just…stand aside.

Grace sees Boyd’s head move slightly and the moment his eyes meet her, a meteor storm could batter London to ruins and neither of them would notice. She moves forward slowly, as though she’s savouring each moment, convincing herself that this is *real*.

When she reaches the bed, she sits in the chair that’s there and reaches out to push some hair from Boyd’s face. “I am so sorry,” she whispers.

“So…m’I,” he replies, and Grace knows he’s sincere about it.

Her fingers brush his cheek now, and she finds it’s damp. She wonders briefly if he’s been crying as well, but his eyes are dry. Grace realises Sarah‘s tears must be lying there, so instead of kissing that cheek, she smiles and kisses the other.

“Thank you,” Boyd whispers, and to Grace’s great surprise, he then starts to cry. “Am so…sorry…Grace.”

Just the sound of her name coming from his lips causes her to break down. True, he’s said her name many times before - using in a loud, yelling tone of voice - but this time it’s different. It’s different because he almost died. She almost lost him, and he almost lost her, and it was all just too bloody real and too bloody close for comfort.

“Oh, Boyd, don’t ever worry me like that again!” Grace exclaims before throwing herself across his chest, and briefly wondering if she’s glad it’s now covered up or not.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just….” She was going to say ‘hold me’, but she can’t find the words. Then surprisingly, she feels Boyd’s arms come slowly around, crushing her to his body with all the strength he can muster.

They stay like that for a while, until they both stop crying, and then Grace just listens to Boyd’s heartbeat. It’s steady and strong, and she thinks that’s just like Boyd. She finally sits up, reluctantly, because otherwise her back will ache like a bitch, she knows it will.

It’s awkward at first, but eventually they start to talk. They analyse their argument, pull it to pieces, and reassemble it into something softer, much easier to manage, and more pleasurable to both of them. Once they’ve done that, they go back over their relationship since its start, pulling it apart and adding the bits to the end. It seems like a weird way of doing things, to anyone else, but to them, it makes perfect sense. The argument that drove Boyd to the pub was the end for them; the end of their relationship as they knew it, the end of the fighting…just ‘the end’. Now they have the chance to build something better, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, and that’s what they’re doing.

When they’ve finished, they realise that they’re holding hands, and neither of them are sure when that happened. And the picture that they’ve built, the image of where they want their relationship to go and to be, looks an awful lot like love to both of them.

The doctor stops by, but doesn’t stay long. He sees all he needs to know in just a few minutes, though Grace and Boyd are pretty much oblivious to everything except each other.

When Spence finally arrives at the end of the day, neither of them know why he’s grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“What?” Boyd asks, his voice already stronger.

Spence’s grin widens. “Grab your clothes, buddy; you’re going home.”

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

Grace can’t believe it. She simply can’t believe that Boyd is out of hospital, and sat with her in the back of Spence’s car. Boyd’s fingers are intertwined with hers, and every so often they exchange small, almost shy glances that Grace is certain Spence has picked up on.

Spence helps Boyd into his house, then makes his excuses to leave, telling Grace to call him when she wants a lift home.

“When do you think we should tell them there’s an ‘us’ now?” Grace asks as she moves around the kitchen, preparing a light meal for them both.

“Sooner rather than later,” Boyd replies. “I don’t want the rumour mills up and running first.”

Grace smiles. “I know I shouldn’t be asking, but are you okay?”

“Glad to be back in my own house. Even more glad that you’re here.”

“Stop it, Boyd, you’re making me blush.”

“That was the general idea.”

Grace raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t reply. They eat in relative silence, with the odd flirtatious comment thrown out for good measure. Truth be told, they’re both surprised how easily they’ve fallen into being a couple, like it was the most logical step in the evolution of their relationship. Grace casually wonders what the next step will be.

As she washes up, Boyd starts to yawn and look drowsy. “You should go to bed,” she suggests quietly.

“I’ve spent the last…however many days, weeks, whatever sleeping, Grace!” Boyd replies, a little too loudly. He realises what he’s done immediately. “I’m sorry, I’m not annoyed at you. It’s just I hate this, being an invalid.”

Grace smiles and walks up to him, cupping his cheek. “I know, and if there’s anything I can do help you, other than not mother you too much, tell me.”

Boyd turns to kiss her palm. “I will, thank you.”

When he yawns again, Grace reluctantly steps away. “I should go, let you get some rest. Will you be okay?”

Boyd hesitates, but then smiles and nods. “I’ll be fine.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

It’s Grace’s turn to hesitate now, before she decides to just kiss him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Boyd.”

“Night, Grace.”

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

It’s one of the worst night’s sleep Grace has ever had, except for those nights when Boyd was in hospital and not getting better. She tries to sleep on one side, then the other, then her back, then her front. She sits up and reads, she goes downstairs and curls up on the couch, and more times than she cares to count, she reaches for the phone to call Boyd, just make sure he’s alright. Just to reassure herself that he’s still there; just to hear his voice.

But Grace knows that Boyd needs his sleep, and so she endures the night, finally falling asleep in the early hours of the morning, only to be woken by her alarm not long afterwards. As Grace showers and makes herself breakfast, she thinks about how best to resolve her problem, which is a simple case of lack of Boyd. And as Grace drives to his house before going to work, she realises that the solution is simple, though getting Boyd to agree to it might be slightly more than difficultly impossible.

Boyd looks quite well as he answers the door, and the kiss he gives Grace makes her consider skiving off work and doing unspeakable things to him despite his condition. But she doesn’t, she just smiles and walks into the house, catching his hand and taking him with her as she goes.

“How did you sleep?” Grace asks as they sit in the kitchen.

“Badly,” Boyd replies. “You?”

Grace smiles. “Not very well.” She suddenly looks a little nervous. “Boyd, I wanted to run something by you. I know this is probably sudden, but I’d like to try if you’re up for it.” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know why you had a rough night, but I couldn’t sleep because you weren’t there. I-I love you, and I want to be with you so much that when I’m not, it hurts.” Grace looks away. “That probably sounds really stupid to you.”

Boyd reaches out and with his fingers under Grace’s chin, gently leads her head back round until their eyes lock. “I couldn’t sleep for the same reason,” he replies softly. “Tell me, Grace, when I asked for Sarah, did I know who I was asking for?”

Grace looks a little startled, but then says, “Ah. I thought so, but it turns out that you didn’t. It was Frankie who discovered who you recognised and who you didn’t.” She then explains the whole story to him and he listens intently.

“So you were the only one I could remember properly?” Boyd asks, all the while knowing in the back of his mind that it’s true.

“It seemed that way.”

Boyd smiles. “It was that way, Grace.” He kisses her tenderly on the lips. “Now, what did you want to ask me?”

“Move in with me. Or let me move in with you. I want to be near you as often as I can be, Boyd,” Grace replies. “I know it won’t be easy; hell, we can’t even work together sometimes, but I want to try.”

“I like your house better,” Boyd says with a smile, without hesitation.

Grace’s expression is one he’ll never forget, and the kiss that follows is a proper scorcher. Unfortunately, the persistent ring of the telephone forces them apart. Grace rushes to get it for Boyd as he’s still sort of unsteady on his feet.

“Hello?” he answers.

*“Boyd, it’s Stride. How are you?”*

Boyd instinctively sits up a little straighter. “Sir. I’m fine, thank you. How did you know I was out of hospital?”

*“I asked DI Jordan to keep me updated on your condition,”* the commissioner replies. *“He has done a sterling job managing the team in your absence.”*

“I’ll be sure to tell him, sir.”

*“No need, I told him myself. I think he’s after your job now,”* Stride says, a hint of a smile evident in his voice.

Boyd groans. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

*“Listen, Boyd, I won’t keep you long, but I was wondering if you could come by my office either today or within the next couple of days. We need to talk about sick leave for you. And no arguing!”* Stride adds firmly. He’s all too aware of what Boyd is like.

Boyd grimaces. “Yes, sir.”

*“Good. Don’t worry about making an appointment. I’ll be here. See you soon, Peter.”*

“Goodbye, sir.” Boyd puts the phone down.

“Well?” Grace asks after a period of silence.

To her surprise, Boyd looks up and smiles. “What are you doing today?”

“Erm, working?”

“Do you have some holiday time to use up?”

Grace rolls her eyes. “Of course.”

“Good.” Boyd takes her hands. “How does this sound to you? You give me a lift to police headquarters now, I’ll go to see Stride while you go to see the team. Once I’ve finished with the commissioner, I’ll meet you in the office and we can tell the kids that we’re moving in together, and then you can spend the rest of the day helping me to pack.”

Grace tries to keep her face serious, but it doesn’t work. She smiles and kisses him impulsively. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good. So do I. Shall we?”

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

“Grace is humming!” Stella whispers furiously to Spence, who just shrugs.

“And?”

“Why is she humming?”

“Maybe because Boyd is finally out of hospital,” Eve suggests. “Or maybe because they’ve finally got their act together.” Spence and Stella star at the scientist. “What? Sex always makes me happy.”

“I thought that was just dead bodies,” Stella replies with a straight face, as Spence gives a loud ‘argh!’ and claps his hands over his ears.

Eve looks at Stella innocently. “Was it something we said?”

Stella shrugs. “He’s a man. He doesn’t need a reason.”

“What have you done to poor Spence?” Grace asks, walking into the bullpen.

“Nothing,” the two women reply in unison.

Grace looks unconvinced. “Hmm.” She sounds it as well. She touches Spence’s shoulder lightly, but he jumps a mile in the air. “Hi, Spence.”

“Hi,” he replies, though his expression looks pained.

“What did they say to you?”

“Nothing.”

“We were talking about humming,” Stella pipes up brightly.

“Birds,” Eve adds quickly. “Humming birds.”

Grace is an intelligent woman, and not born yesterday, so she cuts to the chase. “I was humming because I am happy. Is that alright?”

All three nod, knowing that speaking would only land them in more trouble, when Boyd appears. The smiles, well wishes and happy greetings are all genuine, as are the hugs, kisses and handshakes that go around. Boyd shocks them all into silence when he tells them he’s proud of them, and grateful for everything they’ve done.

“Are you sure we picked the right person up from the hospital?” Spence asks, looking at Grace.

“No, but I think this one is better,” Grace replies, looking at Boyd with *those* eyes, a look that can’t be misinterpreted by anyone, even Spence.

“Do you want to tell them?” Boyd asks.

“No, you can.”

“Can I?” Eve asks with a grin.

Boyd looks a little surprised, but Grace just waves her hand. “Go on.”

“You and Boyd are, *finally*, an item, and if either of you hurts the other, you won’t live to regret it,” the scientist said.

Somewhere in the back of Boyd’s mind, he remembers those words, but he doesn’t want to worry about where from right now. Instead, he takes Grace hand and says, “Yes, that’s about it.”

“And we’re moving in together, today,” Grace adds, moving as close to Boyd as she can. “Or we are if I have some vacation time coming up.” She looks meaningfully at the man by her side  
Boyd smiles. “The commissioner has said you can have a week to ten days off, starting right now, and then maybe more a little later on. He also told me to stay off for at least a month, and when I come back, he wants me to take it easy.” Boyd looks at Spence. “Since you’ve been doing such a good job, he’s leaving you in charge until I get back. But don’t get used to it!” he tells the younger man as a broad grin splits onto Spence’s face.

“You know, we’ve all got holiday time to use up,” Eve says thoughtfully.

“And it’s the weekend, starting tomorrow,” Stella adds, nodding.

“And we haven’t got a case right now,” Spence finishes.

Grace shakes her head. “Meaning?”

“You’ll need help packing and moving. Who’s going where?” Spence asks.

Before anyone can respond, he finds himself with an arm full of emotional Grace. Boyd moves to rub Grace’s back comfortingly as Spence hugs her, and before anyone knows what’s going on, the five of them are hugging each other group-like.

They break away, all blushing awkwardly, and Boyd clears his throat. “I’m going to Grace’s. Tomorrow morning, then, nine o’clock at my house. You can bring breakfast,” he tells his team in a deep voice.

“Thank you,” Grace says, looking at the kids.

Eve just shrugs. “Don’t mention it. Now get out of here. You don’t want to be spending your holidays at work.”

“He would,” Grace replies, inclining her head at a protesting Boyd as she drags him out of the office, intent on going back to hers and doing at least one or two of those unspeakable things she was thinking about earlier.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

*A couple of weeks later….*

Now I’m up and about again, it’s time to start taking care of a few things. A quick phone call to Jess reassures me that everything between us is alright, though I do feel the need to apologise again for my past behaviour. I explain what‘s happened to result my sudden change in attitude, and Jess makes sure I’m definitely on the mend before saying she has to cut the call short. Something to do with a psychotic female prison warden. I don’t ask any more. Jess promises to call occasionally, just to keep that connection between us open. I agree, happy that she wants to stay in touch. I wonder how Grace will react.

My next port of call will be a little more difficult, and I can see it going totally pear-shaped very quickly. But I have to try. I have to try and mend what I can.

I knock on the door and wait, shifting nervously from foot to foot. No, I’m not a nervous person, but after what’s happened to me, I think I should be a little more cautious. And I’m nervous now because I have to say sorry.

Saying it isn’t the problem - it’s only a word, after all. It’s meaning it that’s the problem. And this time I really do mean it. I hope she knows that.

The door opens. “What the hell do you want?” Mary asks.

I don’t flinch; that was exactly the sort of reception I was expecting. “Can I come in?”

Mary steps outside, pulls the front door to, and crosses her arms. “No.”

That was expected as well. Fine, I’ll do this outside. In the rain. In the cold rain. I don’t care. Honestly I don’t. “I wanted to apologise for everything, for all the hurt I caused you, for all the pain I put you through. For not being a good husband or a friend, and for being a bad father. I’m sorry for being the reason our son ran away. I can’t change any of that now, but I want you know that I truly regret the way I treated you.”

Mary starts off by sneering at my words, but as I carry on, her expression changes and softens. Eventually, once I’ve stopped speaking, she asks, “What happened?”

“To bring about this?” I reply, and she nods. I give her the shortened version of my ‘ordeal’, and I know there’s still some sort of feeling between us when, after I’ve finished, Mary reaches out to me slightly, as if to reassure us both that I really am alright.

She doesn’t touch me, though, but she does shake her head. “Oh, Peter.” Then she looks at me a little more critically. “What else has happened?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“There’s something different about your eyes,” Mary says. “They’re shining like I’ve never seen before.”

Now I look surprised, I know I do. “Which means what, exactly?”

She glares at me. “It means you look bloody happy, you bastard. Happier than you did when we were married.”

Ouch. Now I manage to look guilty, though I don’t know why I should feel guilty for being bloody happy. “I’m sorry. My eyes seem to be talking without my permission.”

“Why does everything have to turn into an argument with you?!” Mary asks, exasperatedly.

I grimace. “Grace said exactly the same thing to me.”

“Grace?”

Now I’m sighing. “I think she’s the reason I’m so happy. Her name is Grace.”

Mary nods. “Does she know what she’s letting herself in for?”

“We’ve worked together for the past 6 years. I think so.”

Mary’s face softens again. “I just wish you had looked like that when we were married, that’s all,” she says. “But as you said before, we can’t change the past.”

“Did I say that?” I ask, my tone light.

“Close enough.”

“Are you happy, Mary?” I inquire sincerely.

“As happy as I can be, Peter.” She bites her lip. “I’d be happier if I knew what happened to our son.”

I step forward and rest my hand on her shoulder. “I promise I will find him,” I say firmly, then I give a rueful smile. “When I was hallucinating, I saw almost everybody, but not Joe. Do you think that means something?”

“You’ll have to ask Grace,” Mary replies, smiling mysteriously. “She is the psychologist, after all.”

I remove my hand and stare in astonishment. “How the bloody hell do you know that?”

Mary laughs and places her hand briefly against my cheek. “I still have friends in the police force, and every so often they give me a ‘report’ on you, so to speak. Nothing specific, just that you’re okay.” She frowns. “They didn’t tell me about this, though.”

“Would you like me to yell at them?”

She laughs again. “I can manage, thank you.”

I smile and nod. “I’ll leave you to your afternoon now. Take care, Mary.”

“You too, Peter.”

“And I meant what I said; I promise I *will* find out what happened to Joe, one way or another.”

“I’ll see you when you have news, then,” Mary says, smiling slightly before turning and going back into her house, closing the door behind her.

I turn and head back to the car. There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Next stop, the scientists.

   
TBC


	22. Chapter 22

Before I go to see the scientists, I make a pit stop at the graveyard. Something’s telling me to go and see Mel, and I take notice of it. I wish it’d stop bloody raining, though. It’s starting to piss me off.

But I go and I stand in the pissing rain, and I talk to Mel, though what I’m telling her I think she’s already heard because the rain comes down harder on me. Finally I’m that fed up I just say what I came to say in the first place. I just thought I’d make small talk because…well, I didn’t want to seem rude.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry that…that I didn’t treat you better,” I say. “But it’s just the way I am.” I sigh. “I still miss you. I suppose I always will.”

I turn to leave, my words having run dry, and I vaguely notice that it’s stopped raining. When I get to my car, I look up at the sky, and what I see takes my breath away. There’s a rainbow that’s appeared, pale and beautiful like Mel was, and I swear it starts - or ends - at the graveyard.

“Thank you,” I whisper with a smile. I take a moment longer to enjoy the forgiveness Mel has given me before I get into my car and drive away.

I was surprised when Grace gave me Felix’s work address, and even more surprised when she said the scientist would agree to see me. Out of all the people who left, who I upset, Felix comes a very close second. Frankie, unfortunately, takes top spot. Earning her forgiveness will be nothing short of a minor miracle.

I walk into the building and give the receptionist my name. Then I wait. Never was much good at it, but I’ve gotten a little better.

“Hello, Boyd.”

I freeze and then I turn about slowly. “Crispy duck,” I reply. Surprisingly, it’s one of the only hallucinations I remember.

Felix smiles. “Not quite.”

“How have you been?” I ask.

“Better than you from what I hear.”

I nod. “Turns out he wasn’t even after me.”

Felix smiles again. “Sod’s law.”

“Yeah.” I look around. “Do you want to get a coffee?”

“I’m sorry, Boyd, I can’t. Not today.”

I nod in understanding. It’s not a complete rebuke, just the simple truth. “I won’t take up too much of your time then,” I reply with a smile. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being the main reason you left the cold case unit. You were a good addition to the team and I would have liked you to stay, but I can’t blame you for not wanting to. We almost lost Spence, and we’d lost Mel not long before that, and I guess it was too much for me to try and understand. I had my priorities fixed on the long-standing members of my team, instead of the team as a whole. I can’t change the past, and I can’t promise a difference in the future because I doubt our paths will cross ever again or very often, but I want you to know that I truly am sorry for the way I treated you. It was unacceptable.”

Felix smiles once more at me and my heart already feels lighter. “You can be a bastard to work for and to be around sometimes, Boyd, but I would never wish you any harm. I’m glad to see you’re on the mend.” She takes a step towards me. “And I want you to take care of Grace. You know damn well you’d never live to regret it if you hurt her.”

I know I look surprised, I can’t help it. “How the hell do you know about me and Grace?”

Felix fixes an innocent impression on her face, though it doesn’t fool me for a second. “I just do.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to work out who she would still be in touch with. It might be Spence, but he’s not one to gossip. Then it hits me, like a freight train at high speed.

“The world of forensic scientists is a small one, isn’t it,” I state, staring at Felix.

She just nods. “It is.”

“Good. The more people looking out for Grace, the better.” I look at my watch, checking the time, and realise we’ve been stood talking for almost half an hour. “I’d better let you get back to work. Take care, Dr. Gibson.”

Felix inclines her head. “You too, Boyd.” She squeezes my forearm before turning and heading back into the lab.

I turn and wait until I get outside before taking a deep breath. On a whim, I phone Eve. I get the engaged tone. Somehow, I’m not surprised. I get into my car, count to ten, and try Eve again.

“Hello,” she answers.

“I trust that whatever Dr. Gibson tells you will go no further,” I reply. “Except perhaps to Dr. Wharton.”

“Boyd?” Eve asks. “What are you…?”

“And speaking of Frankie,” I continue over her, “Is there any point in me going where she works or is she out of the country?”

“Didn’t Grace tell you?”

“I never asked.”

Eve sighs, knowing she’s been caught. “Frankie left a few weeks ago.”

“When will she be back?” I ask, feeling unexpectedly dejected.

“I don’t know, Boyd, and that’s the truth,” Eve replies, and then there’s a pause. “You might want to come back to the office, though. She…she left you something. I’ve got to go.” The phone goes dead suddenly.

I should be angry, really, but I’m not. I have the feeling Eve told me something she wasn’t supposed to, and so I write a quick text to her, reassuring her that she won’t get into trouble, before I drive back to the office.

I go in to see Grace first, that way it doesn’t look like I came back for a reason. Technically I’m not supposed to be in the office at all, and I’m certainly not supposed to be working, but visiting the woman I love wasn’t on the list of things I’m not supposed to do.

Grace looks up and smiles at me. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I reply before kissing her. “You blush beautifully.”

She hits me. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought the commissioner told you to stay away for at least a month.”

“I’m not here to work,” I protest, holding my hands up. “I just had to pick something up.”

Grace eyes me suspiciously. “What?”

I kiss her again. “I’ll tell you later,” I say in a low voice. “But if anyone asks, some old notes I need to sort out.”

Grace nods, and I marvel again at how well she knows me. “I thought I’d pick a takeaway up on the way home.”

I smile. “That sounds good.” I kiss her one last time - I can’t get enough of her, you know - and head over to my office.

Spence and Stella both have their heads down, working hard, and I wouldn’t like to disturb them. I see instantly that there’s nothing on my desk, and I frown slightly, but then I think that whatever I was supposed to come back for might be hand delivered. I’m not disappointed.

There’s a knock on my door and I turn to see Spence stood there. “This is for you, boss,” he says without preamble, handing me an envelope. “It’s from Frankie.”

Now I am confused, but then I remember Frankie was here, working with Eve. I’m still having a little trouble sorting the hallucinations from the real memories, but I’m getting there.

I nod. “Thanks, Spence.”

He just shrugs. “No problem.”

“Why did Frankie give this to you?” I ask before he leaves.

“She didn’t exactly,” Spence replies. “I just volunteered to look after it.”

I nod again. “Does Grace know about this?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Okay.” I collect a couple of files, not knowing what the hell I’ve grabbed, and leave my office, yelling my goodbyes as I go. I know I’ve got a few hours before Grace gets home, and I figure that’s plenty of time to read and process whatever Frankie’s written to me.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

When I get home - I still can’t used to calling it that - I put the radio on first and the kettle second. I’ve never been a big music fan, but living with Grace has forced me to admit that it isn’t all that bad, especially home alone. Having some background noise leaves less time for brooding and thinking, both of which I do a hell of a lot of at times.

I sit down on the couch with a cup of coffee and open the envelope Spence gave me. A letter I was expecting; an essay I was not.

“Bloody hell, Frankie,” I mutter as I see how many pages I have to read. Sighing, I get to it.

I remember Frankie visiting me, and I remember being told that she and Eve helped to find the cure for me. I remember some of the things Frankie said, and I remember she kissed me on the cheek. That’s about it, so this should be interesting.

*Dear Boyd,  
I  
hope you’re sat comfortably and if you’re not, well, it’s your own fault. I’m starting anyway. I don’t know how much you remember from when I visited you in hospital, or what everyone else has told you, so I apologise if I’m saying things you already know.

When you were in hospital, the only person you could truly remember was Grace, from the moment you were brought in. Grace was hurt because you asked for Sarah first, but I think it was just a name going around your head and you wanted to know who it was. Go on, tell me I’m wrong.*

I smile. “You’re not wrong, Frankie,” I murmur, thinking back to when Grace told me the same thing, although she went into a little more detail.

*I don’t know what you’ve decided to do, and I know what you should do. I’m sure Sarah is a nice person, but let’s face it, Boyd, your heart doesn’t lie with her, and I think she knows it as well now.*

I sigh and sip my coffee. Frankie’s not wrong there either, although thinking of Sarah still makes my heart twinge a little. It’s one of those ‘if there’d been no Grace, we could have been good together’ things. But there is a Grace, and I love her.

*So let’s focus on the person who your heart does lie with: Grace. When I asked you what you thought about Grace, you said, ‘She smells nice. And she’s beautiful. But she keeps leaving me. I want her to stay.’ I knew then that you had it bad for her.*

I groan and bury my head in my hands briefly.

*Do you remember what I then told you to do? I told you to do something out of character, to open up to Grace and maybe even hug her, because believe it or not, Boyd, Grace needs you, just like you need her, though you’re both too bloody stubborn to admit it. I’m going to go further and say that you both love each other. Now all you have to do is admit it. I hope that by the time you read this, that’s exactly what you’ll have done.*

“I’m glad you’re not in the country,” I mutter, shaking my head. “I don’t think I could stand the smug ‘I told you so’.”

*Now you’re back on your feet, I’m going to go further, so pay attention. Grace may seem like a strong woman, but where you’re concerned she’s incredibly fragile. I don’t think you realise just how much your words and actions, when thoughtless, hurt her. Don’t worry, the same goes for her to you. You’re not as tough as everyone thinks, Boyd. That’s not a criticism, but I’ve seen through you, and you get hurt by Grace’s barbs and digs just as much as she is hurt by yours. Don’t you think that the time has finally come to change?*

“I’m too old,” I tell the letter.

*And don’t give me any of that ‘age’ crap. Old dogs can learn new tricks, I know they bloody well can, and you are a fairly intelligent old dog, so you should have no trouble.*

I swear. I can’t help it.

*So if you love Grace and you want to keep hold of her, here’s what you have to do. Think before you speak, or at least try to. Let Grace know she’s special every day, whether it’s with an unexpected kiss, hug, or gesture, but don’t overdo it. Admit you’re wrong occasionally; tell her if you’re scared, or angry, but don’t take it out on her. I don’t expect you to change overnight, Boyd, but if you want to keep Grace in your life at all, you’re going to have to do some changing. Yes, you almost died, but that scare won’t be enough for Grace to stay if you don’t change.*

“Alright, Frankie, I get it. I have to change!” I snap irritably at the letter, then I realise the reason I’m mildly irked is because she’s repeating herself, and because she’s telling me things I already know. Then I realise Frankie’s repeating herself so it’ll percolate through my thick skull. I take a few deep breaths, and then say more calmly, “I know you’re right, Frankie. I just don’t think it will be easy.”

*I don’t expect it will be easy for you, but you have to try, Boyd.*

“Piss off.”

*Make a sincere effort and let Grace see some progress. Remember a little goes a long way, in many things. And I know you’re going to want to start searching more forcefully for your son, which is a good thing, but don’t shut Grace out. Whatever happens, however hard it might be for you, do not shut her out. Don’t be afraid to break down in front of her; it’ll make your relationship stronger in the end.

Alright, you’ll be glad to know I’m almost done, but this might be the most important thing I have to say. I’ve always known you have a soft spot for Grace, but I think that Grace has always loved you, and watching you flirt and date other women for six years will have been hard on her. She is a strong woman, but she’s also insecure; she needs to know that you’re not going to just disappear if someone younger and more beautiful comes along because let’s face it, Boyd, you do have something of a roving eye. I’m not saying looking isn’t allowed any more, I’m just saying don’t be so obvious about it. Try to curb your flirting, and don’t forget to let Grace know that she’s the most important person in your life, as well as the most beautiful, if in fact she is that. And remember, be honest. It makes things easier in the long run, believe me.

I’m sorry I didn’t get chance to see you properly. Hopefully next time I’m in the country, we can catch up. Please take care of yourself, Boyd, and take care of Grace. You’re both special people who deserve to be happy, especially with each other.

Love,

Frankie*

I sit for a long time just staring at the letter, holding it in my hands as I try to absorb Frankie’s words. I think I’m going to rename her ‘The Oracle’ because she was absolutely bloody right, and I also think that next time I see her, I’m going to tell her that.

The o’clock news on the radio alerts me to the fact that Grace will be home soon, and I spring into action with something Monty Python going through my head.

And now for something completely different….  
   
TBC


	23. Chapter 23

Grace lies awake in the dark, just listening to the sound of breathing. It’s quiet, but she knows the sun will be rising soon, and that’s her favourite time of the day. The world is so peaceful as most people are at rest, and Grace likes to enjoy the serenity of it.

The man beside her stirs slightly in his sleep and she smiles affectionately at him. Memories of the previous day filter back to her. She’d come home to find a paradise, and she wasn’t just talking about Boyd. The hallway was lined with candles and lilies; true, roses were supposed to be more romantic, but Grace’s favourite flower is the lily, and she was surprised Boyd remembered that.

She followed the trail to the kitchen, where Boyd was waiting. He took her coat and bag, kissing her gently as he did so, then he pulled a chair out for her at the table. The meal was exquisite and Grace remembered how easily and naturally Boyd had laughed when she asked if he’d cooked it. Afterwards, he disappeared for a few moments and returned, telling her to follow the light.

Grace followed candles into the living room where a bottle of wine was waiting, next to a subtly wrapped gift, and soft music played in the background. As she poured herself a glass of wine, Grace looked at the gift, seeing there was a note attached.

*Open me now.*

She smiled and did as she was told. It was a new book on psychology that she had been after for a while. Boyd remembered that as well. When he finally appeared, Grace was curled up on the couch reading. She had laughed and kissed him when he said he’d been washing up, and then they curled up and talked. For hours they chatted about everything, anything and nothing, down to the weather and work, and the letter Frankie had left Boyd.

Boyd disappeared again and when he returned, he took Grace’s hand and led her up the stairs, which were covered in lily petals and candles, making a path to the bathroom, not the bedroom like she expected. Boyd had run a bath, and though it was a squash, they both climbed into it, taking the time to undress each other first. There was no rush for anything and they both knew that.

When they both started to get cramp, they got out of the bath and got under the shower, washing each other carefully. Boyd had told Grace that he wanted to spoil her, even if it was only for one day, for no other reason that just because. Once they were clean, Boyd then led her to the bedroom.

As she lies in bed watching the first rays of the morning sun appear through the gap in the curtains, Grace laughs a little. It was ever so slightly pointless in showering first and then doing what they did afterwards, but it *was* enjoyable. She slips out of bed, careful not to disturb Boyd, puts a robe on, and goes into her spare bedroom. The view of the sunrise is better from there, and as she stands at the window, Grace’s mind turns back to last night.

Never had she felt so cherished, so special, so loved or so wanted as she did with Boyd. He took time to kiss every patch of skin he could find, or so it seemed to Grace. She felt as though every nerve was humming by the time he had finished, but his lips were replaced by his fingers, ghosting over her body, worshipping it.

Their love making was slow, but passionate, and the heap they finished in was the way they went to sleep. Grace knew she wouldn’t have it any other way, despite her back complaining about it now.

“It’s too early to be awake,” a voice grumbles just as strong hands circle her waist.

Grace jumps but relaxes immediately. “I wanted to watch the sun rise.”

Instead of asking why, or trying to convince her to come back to bed, Boyd just says, “Okay. Want me to leave?”

Grace shakes her head, covers his arms with hers and leans her head back against him. It’s only then that she realises he isn’t wearing anything. Or that’s what she thinks. “You’ll get cold,” she states with a smile.

Boyd shrugs. “You’ll have to warm me up then, won’t you?”

Grace shakes her head but doesn’t stop smiling. As the sun rises, its golden-red rays fill the room, lighting up their expressions and highlighting the smiles in their eyes. Suddenly Grace turns to Boyd, puts her hands on his face and kisses him passionately. “I love you,” she whispers.

To her surprise, tears appear in the corners of Boyd’s eyes. “I love you too,” he replies, not because he feels he has to, but because that’s how he *feels*.

As they rest their foreheads against each other, Grace realises she would do anything for this man. He did something special for her yesterday, and now she wants to repay the favour. Trying not to smile, Grace knows exactly what she can do, or at least try to.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

*A couple of weeks later….*

The first thing I notice when I open the door is how quiet the house is. I know Grace is home because I called at work on my way back from the doctors, to see if she wanted a lift. Spence told me she’d gone and that she seemed…out of sorts. That was enough to make me break the speed limit driving back to our house.

And now all my senses are alert for anything out of place, part from the silence. I hope there isn’t anyone else in the house, besides me and Grace, because I’m still not quite strong enough to take anyone on.

I walk into the unlit kitchen and stop, but I take a deep breath of relief when I recognise the outline as Grace’s. “What are you doing in the dark?” I ask quietly, walking towards her.

“Don’t.”

Her voice is low, and while I’m not expert on women, I do know Grace and it sounds like she’s been crying. Now I *am* worried. “Can I put the light on?” I ask.

“If you want.”

I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. What the hell has happened? As I move to the light switch, I quickly think back to what I’ve done, or not done as the case may be, since I last saw Grace. And considering that was this morning before she went to work, when everything was fine, I can’t imagine what’s wrong.

“You haven’t done anything,” Grace says quietly, reading my expression correctly.

“Then what is it?” I keep my distance, though it’s killing me. I want to be next to her, comforting her, telling her everything will be all right, even if it won’t be. Though whether I’d be comforting her or me, I don’t know. I’m suddenly scared of what the next words out of her mouth will be; I’m even more scared that this is still a damn hallucination, that I never really woke up.

“I’ve done something and you’re going to yell. Probably,” Grace replies, finally looking up.

I take another deep breath of relief. “Please don’t do that to me again.”

Grace frowns. “Do what?”

“I thought you wanted me to leave. Permanently.”

“Oh Boyd, of course not,” she says, smiling apologetically at me.

I walk up to her slowly and take both of her hands in mine. “That is the only thing that would upset me, I think; us breaking up. So if that’s not what you wanted to talk about, it can’t be that bad.”

“It might be.” Grace pulls away from me and walks to the middle of the kitchen. I watch her, not moving, wondering what the hell has got her so agitated.

“You want to find Joe, don’t you?” she asks.

What the hell is going on?! I nod and Grace stretches her hand out to me. I look down as she passes me a piece of paper. Frowning, I ask, “What’s this?”

“Joe’s phone number,” Grace answers quietly.

I stand there, stunned. I’ve been searching for my son for so long now that I’ve collected a catalogue of scenarios for what might happen when I found him, and how I would find him. This, I have to admit, is not in that catalogue.

“Say something, Boyd,” Grace says, a note of worry in her voice.

Slipping the piece of paper into my pocket, where I know it’ll be safe, I take her hand and cup her face. “Thank you,” I reply. “And I love you.”

Grace smiles back in relief. “I love you too.”

When we kiss, the world melts away and I know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. People say they never forget the birth of their first child or when they got married, but for me, I’ll never forget the day I lost my head. That was the day everything changed, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

FIN


End file.
